The Convict in My Closet
by Amber Masquerade
Summary: AU. My name is Soul Eater Evans, age 15, convicted of a murder that I did not commit. Now I am on the run for one reason only: To prove my innocence to the world. But when I accidentally bump into Maka Albarn - school girl prodigy - on the streets of New York, she just might be the type of detective I need to solve everything. A classic 'who done it' murder mystery/romance fanfic.
1. The Fugitive and the Prodigy

**A/N: The POV might get a little confusing later on in the story, so it will switch between Soul and Maka. I won't give away any spoilers! So...enjoy! And leave a review while you're at it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater or any of its characters.**

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Chapter 1: The Fugitive and the Prodigy

My name is Soul Eater Evans. It's not my real name, but ever since the murder they have called me that for as long as I could remember. In fact, they have called me that so much that I've forgotten my own name. Oh well, at least 'Soul Eater' is better than 'Heartless Devil,' my first actual nickname while I was held the juvenile detention center before my trial.

I duck behind another garbage can in an alleyway before anyone can see me, and hide in the shadow of the darkness. Damn those New York cops, they've been chasing my ass since last month! Cursing under my heavy breath, I hear the sirens pass by and get farther away, before making my next move into the crowded and bustling streets. Nighttime in New York City is the busiest I've ever seen, making even my poor disguise impossible to pinpoint in the vast crowd of people moving in all different directions. Hell, even I'd blend in, despite my odd-looking droopy-eyed appearance. From the corner of my eye I see a small flyer fluttering off of a lampost with the unmistakable picture of my face on it. I've read it so many times now that I memorized it without even looking at it:

**WANTED: **

**'SOUL EATER' EVANS**

**CONVICTED OF FIRST DEGREE MURDER**

**REWARD: 10,000$**

Tearing the poster off with a fury, I attract some nearby people. They glanced at me, then at the ground, then walked away quickly. Who could blame them? I'm the type of guy who you would not want to meet in a dark alley at night. If my burning red glare or my colorless spiky hair didn't get you first, then my row of glistening sharp teeth would do the trick. It was also because of my handsome looks that made me seem guilty in every way.

I had told myself many times that I didn't do it, because I _didn't do it_. So what if I was found with the murder weapon in my parent's bedroom at the time of their death? So what if I told the cops that I had genuinely no memory of what had happened that night, when my mother and father got a bullet lodged in both their heads? I even begged them to the point where they thought I'd lost my mind, but that didn't work.

With my hands in my pocket and my shoulders slumped near my face, I fight through the crowd in a half-run-half-walk to make it to the other side of the empty street. I had no idea where I was going; I just want to get away from them. It's been five months since my arrest at my parents house, and only two since I've been a fugitive. The police have been chasing me since this morning, and I can't afford to mess up. The sirens in the distance get louder and I start to panic.

Hide! Where can I hide?!

This time, there's no one around, and no crowd I can blend in with. The sirens are just around the corner, so I have to find a place soon or else all my hard work will go to waste. I dive into the window of a seemingly abandoned building and crawled down under the frame, out of sight.

"Where is he!?" Man yells right outside my window. "He couldn't have gotten that far! Hurry, men!" There was a shuffle of rubber boots on the pavement, and then silence. I waited a little more, making sure that they were really gone.

I let out a sigh of relief and closed my eyes, letting myself relax in the humid, musty darkness. No light came through the holed-up windows, and cracks ran up and down the concrete structure. The pavement below was rough and uncomfortable for my bottom, and my legs were scratched up and bruised from jumping all over the city. I rubbed the grease and sweat away from my eyes and face, but it was usless because the last time I had taken a bath was...I can't even remember. Trying to remember what my old bed felt like, I felt a wave a sleepiness wash over me.

But there's no time to rest, especially when it seems like the whole world is out to get you. I'm sure the right thing is to keep moving, so I consider to trying to find another place to hide. Maybe somewhere higher, like a different building or something. I also need to find somewhere to rest my head at night, since I learned in the juvenile detention center that sleep could be the end of you if you're on the run like me.

Now is not the time to be indecisive either, because that could kill you too.

You know what? Anything can kill you nowadays.

Nevermind about going somewhere else, I know I'm too tired to move for now, so this should be enough for the night. I close my eyes and try to get some rest for the morning, hoping that there would be better luck next time. There is absolute silence, and I think that they're gone now.

This is the daily life of Soul Eater Evans- consisting of running, hiding, and constantly planning my next move so I don't get caught. Why do I run like this? For one reason; the only reason that keeps me going:

To prove my innocence to the world.

Finally, I have some time alone... My head lolled to the side, and I started slipping into a deep, much-needed sleep...

A loud bang awoke me not long after I drifted off. I heard the door to the front entrance creak open around the corner, and the small glow of light entered from the street. Someone's shadow casted in the light. Was it the cops? I had a bad feeling that if I investigated, they would catch me, and then what? I'd screw myself over, and for what? "Hello?" A voice called. It sounded just like a girl's voice, not the police. I crawl over to the corner and peek over the side to see who was there. All the way in the entrance of the building, a girl looked like she was searching for something. Her outfit was that of a normal school girl's- a yellow sweater vest, green tie striped with silver, red plaid mini-skirt, and she carried a pile of books tucked in her arms. From what I could tell from this distance, she had blonde hair tied in two pigtails and round wide rimmed glasses. "Hello?" She asked again. "Is anyone there?"

What the hell is she doing here? Has she found me out? Does she know who I am and will call the police? I drew back from my corner and sat, back against the wall, and waited. Maybe she won't find me if I just hide here, or should I just jump out and scare her away? No, I should just stay here and wait for her to leave. After a long paused of silence, I hear her sigh disappointedly and the faint light from the opened door disappear. "I knew it was too good to be true..." I heard her mutter before she closed the door behind her. Geez, what was that all about?

Phew, she gone for now. But what was she doing here in a place like this, looking for someone? I brush it off, knowing that she probably won't be coming back. Now is the time to be getting back to sleep, so I prop myself under the windowsill again in hopes of actually getting some rest.

"Over here! We haven't checked over here!" A man's gruff voice says. His voice came from the alley, followed by the marching and scrambling of the same rubber boots I've trying to escape from. Impossible...there's no way they could've found me...

Too exhausted to move, I struggle to my feet and stumble away from the window. "Shit!" I curse to myself. A flashlight shown through the window and blinded me.

"Soul Eater Evans! Come out with you hands up!" The officer commands with about five other officers around him, guns cocked and pointed at my face. I refused his offer, and ran around the corner with the police jumping in behind me. "Freeze!" Sprinting out the same door that the girl came through, I tripped onto the sidewalk and struggled down the block. "Get back here!" With that many police officers after me, there's no way I'll be able to get away from them.

Praying that I get a slight lead ahead of them, I take a sharp right into another alley and pick up speed. Dammit! At this rate I'm done for...

I look behind me and see that I have gained a little space between us, so I knock down some garbage cans and anything that could slow them down, and it seemed to work. I smirk as they scream and curse at me, stumbling around in the debris. "Dumbasses," I snickered and sped off.

Trapped in a maze of tight alleys and sidewalks, I snaked in random directions, not even knowing which way I was headed. All the way at the end of the path, I could see the light of a street lamp on the sidewalk. If I can make it to the other side of the street, maybe I could lose them for real.

"Y-you?!" I yell as I screech to a stop before making it to the street. The same girl from before had been walking down the street, and now stood frozen in my path.

"Wait...you're the one I saw jump into the building?!" She gasps as she adjusts her glasses. Shock filled her eyes when she recognized who I was. "I know you! You were on the news for killing your parents!" Is it me, or did she start to tremble?

"Get out of my way!" I snarl, guilty for not being able to afford a good long conversation with her about my life story.

"Back off!" She threatened and reached for her books unsteadily. "I have a book and I'm not afraid to use it!" Seriously? A book.

"Just get out! I'm kinda in a hurry!" I try and shove my way past her, but she doesn't even budge!

"But if you're the killer...you're my age too..." She mumbles to herself and keeps her eyes glued to me.

"There's no time for that!" I groan and snatch her wrist as the voices of the men get dangerousy close.

"Wha-what are you doing?!" She screams as I yank her in my direction and she drops all her books.

"Just follow me!" I pulled her down the street forcefully. Her feet are dragging on the concrete, making my running painfully harder. "Could you be any slower than this?!" I sneered at her.

"Not when you're draggin me like this! And why should I help a cold-blooded killer like you?"

"Look, I never killed anyone! I swear! I was framed!" I try to convince her, but I doubt it will work. It never worked for me.

Just as I predicted, her response was: "How do you expect me to believe you?"

I bare my fangs at her and reply, "Just give me a chance to explain, will ya?" There's something to this girl that's a little bit...off. Not in a bad way, but just in a different way.

"Do you even know where you're going?" She asks and looks at me skeptically.

"Nope. Just running!" And running out of breath, I forget to add.

So, this is a new twist in the daily life of Soul Eater Evans. I wonder what will happen with this girl? I better not get my hopes up, only for them to be broken and shattered into small pieces like they had been before.

But for some odd reason, I feel differently about this time.


	2. Just Call Me Soul

**A/N: I just noticed that Maka is slightly OOC. Sorry about that :p. Oh and btw how is this new summary? It is better than the first or is the first better? I kinda like this new one because it's a little more vague and mysterious. Tell me what you think!**

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Chapter 2: Just Call Me Soul

"Maka! Hey Maka!" In the busy classroom, Tsubaki came running up to me with a bunch of papers in her hands. This is the exact second time today that she's approached me. And the fifth time this week. Last week, she only came twice- Monday at exactly 10:07 am and Wednesday at exactly 1:34 pm. I can remember so clearly.  
"Is it math homework again? Don't worry, I'll help you," I answer happily and take out my pencil.  
My name is Maka Albarn. I am currently enrolled at the Death's Academy for the Naturally Gifted. DANG for short- I know, it's such a funny name, isn't it? Any person who can say they have gone to school here automatically earns bragging rights, though I am not one to brag.  
"Oh, Maka! I wish I could be as smart as you, then I would at the top of our class," she exclaims while I scribble down her mistakes on the paper.  
"Well, you don't have to say that, Tsubaki," I blush. But at least she's not lying, only because I _am_ the smartest in the class. I don't mean to brag (again), however, my grades far surpass that of a normal student's, and so does my intelligence. "Here you go," I say and hand her the papers back with my scribbles on how the Pythagorean Theorem works, and how supplementary lines add up to a measure of 180 degrees.  
As a child I had the uncanny ability to notice and remember things you wouldn't even think of. Like the exact number of times you fidgeted with your legs during one class. Or what you ate for dinner at your 3rd birthday party that I went to. Or the exact time you brushed your teeth at night and in the morning, right down to the second. I can memorize a whole textbook in a few hours.

The world is just a giant puzzle for me to solve. And a quite easy one.

"Thank you!" When Tsubaki walked away, I could finally take out my book that I have been reading for while. The classroom maybe noisy, but I still try to drown out the noise with my own imagination.  
I glance at the clock: 9:30 am. At exactly 9:47 our teacher, Miss Marie will stumble in the door, her small pocketbook flailing behind her, and fix her hair for a split second before taking her seat. Like she does everyday. She will check the mirror next to her desk to see if she got any lipstick anywhere but her mouth, and then take a small sip of her coffee after saying "Good morning class, let us begin" like she says everyday.

People are so easy to predict, because we are creatures of habit.

The predictable Miss Marie stumbles in through the door in her five-inch heels, just a few seconds later than yesterday. She stops and glances up at the class, smiling and combing her fingers gently in her hair, then took her seat. For some reason or the other, she doesn't check her mirror and skips right to the greeting.  
"Good morning class, let us begin!" I mouth her words while she says them and take out my textbook. Today I don't really feel like learning, considering that I took the liberty of memorizing the lesson plans of the rest of the week. Now, on to more important things. Take my new novel as an example.

Even after all these years, my fascination of books and literature has not faltered. I can't even imagine how many times I've been called "bookworm." Oh wait, yes I can. 102 times. I guess that's a lot.  
So, anyways, my novel. I've always wanted to write one. It'll probably be about some crazy adventure, and hopefully a dash romance; the two things I've longed for in my life.

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It's already 7:02 pm after a late-night club at school, and now I'm on my way home. But I still can't get that idea of the novel out of my head. If I can truly experience "adventure" in my life, then will it become more realistic in my writing?  
This is New York City; there's an adventure around every corner. That, and a lot of tourists.

I sigh, dragging my feet slowly on the concrete, and wonder about the excitement in having an eventful life.  
Suddenly, I here the distinct wail of a police siren nearby. What luck! Taking my chance for an adventure, I whip out my notebook and start running towards the sound of the sirens, my heart beating a mile (actually 98 beats so far) a minute!  
So... I start jotting down every thought that came to mind:

_Our story starts with a daring female lead, who has a taste for action. She bravely follows the sound of danger and is ready for anything..._

The sirens are so close now! I keep running until I hit a giant mass of people, and struggle to keep up. Pushing and shoving as fast as I could, the crowd just kept getting thicker, until the sound of the horns were completely lost in all the noise. But I keep at it, and see an empty sidewalk across the street except for one person. A perculiar-looking man with hunched shoulders hiding his face dashed into an alley. I squint my eyes so I can get a better look at him, but it's too late. Finally, when I make it to the over side, he's already gone.

"Come on! This way! I know he's here!" A group of five policemen rush past me and into the same narrow passage with their guns, obviously searching for someone. I've just landed in the middle of a hunt for a criminal, and the man I saw duck into the path is the criminal! My writting hand twitches with apprehension. I adjust my glasses and furiously begin to write:

_In the dead of night, she hunts for her prey- a man, who she had been sent to bring to justice..._

I take a deep breath before peering into the alley. The police were scrambling down it, but there was no sign of the man. My eyes spot an open window on the ground level of the building. _Of course_ he'd be in there, however the type of police in _this story_ are too stupid to catch anything. Before I enter the abandoned building, I circle around it to the front entrance to ensure a quick getaway if anything went awry.

As I give the rusted old door a gentle push, the smell of rot and must hit me. I make sure to take some notes and hope it won't be my last:

_Gathering up all of her bravery, she steps fearlessly into the haunted tomb, not knowing what awaits her..._

Suddenly, my foot kicked something metal and hard, and it clattered to the ground with a loud metallic clank. I cringed at the sound and waited for something to lunge out at me, but still there was silence.  
"Hello?" I call out in the empty abysmal darkness. "Is anyone there?" I call again, hoping dearly for a response. Clutching the notebook nervously, I take on more step into the blackness and only eerie silence filled the air. I waited for about 5 seconds.

There was no response. I decide that there's nothing here that could be found, and that my adventure is coming to an end. "I knew it was too good to be true..."

Exhausted from chasing down a short-lived adventure, I determine that it's too late for anything for the rest of the night. Papa might get worried if I come home too late. I let out a yawn and observe my notes I took today, and they're not much. The sirens are still present, so the chase must be going on still. Hm, at least I'll be safe and sound in the comfort of my apartment.

The faint sound of frantic footsteps stop me in my place. I glance to my right and saw the man, sprinting at me and looking over his shoulder. I do a double-take to make sure I wasn't seeing things- his hair was pure white, and his eyes were a menacing dark red. He looked like someone who came out of a child's nightmare...

After turning his head my way his eyes meet mine and he halts his running. "Y-you?!"

Immediately, my brain processes his features: White male. 5'6. Red eyes, white hair. Age 15. My age. I mumble something to myself, and he tries to get past me.

"Just get out! I'm kinda in a hurry!"

"But if you're the killer...you're my age too..." My mind is still startled, but slowly recognizes the boy in front of me. A name starts to form: Soul Eater Evans. He murdered his parents exactly 5 months and 3 days ago.

"There's no time for that!" The sudden feeling of my wrist being yanked shook me wake, and now I was being dragged down the street by a murderer.

"Wha-what are you doing?!" I scream as he tugs me down the street. I realize my books have slipped from my grasp, and were lying in a pile on the street. My notebook!

"Just follow me!" There's no time to go back for it, but that's not the thing I should be worried about right now... My instinct tells me that I should escape from his grip, but I can't. No, it's not that I can't; I won't. "Could you be any slower than this?"

I scramble in my brain for a response. "Not when you're dragging me like this! And why should I help a cold-blooded killer like you?!" I pick up my feet anyways, and run with him down the empty streets. Glancing back behind me, I can see a horde of policemen still chasing us.

"Look, I didn't kill anyone! I swear! I was framed!" I found his argument to be quite hard to believe. Besides, he seemed to fit the perfect profile of a killer.

"How do you expect me to belive you?!" I asked testily.

"Just give me a chance to explain, will ya?" He shot me a sharp-toothed smile, another thing that was unusual about his looks.

Perhaps I should give him a chance... Wait! I have an even better idea. This would be the perfect adventure for my novel. "Do you even know where you're going?"

"Nope! Just running!" But I could tell that his energy was running low; the grip on my wrist has loosened.

I knew where we could go- the park would be the perfect place to sort things out. But I didn't want to make it seem like I was really eager to join this new adventure. "Go to the park!" I suggest. Well, that wasn't very subtle of me. But there were so many unanswered questions running around in my head like:

"How do I know that you're not gonna kill me?!" I was scared to hear his reply.

"And how do you know that I will?" He asked, baring his sharp teeth at me. "We're here." We stop right at the entrance, and his hand around my wrist tightened.

"I've decided...to here you out! But you better not try anything or else..."

He chuckled at my bravery. "It's not like I'll do anything anyways." His grin grew bigger. "Why? Are you _scared_ of me?"

"Well, you _are_ a murderer. Why wouldn't I be slightly frightened?" I point out as we run deeper through the park, which was vacant and dark.

"Look, I didn't commit any murder. I told before; I was framed."

"How do I know you aren't lying?"

"I suppose there is no way you can tell, but if I was I wouldn't be here talking to you, would I?" His smirking face became serious. He stops in the middle of a grassy opening with no lights, and no one is around. "Besides, if I were a killer, then you'd be dead by now." This is the perfect place to kill anyone, right here and now. So why hasn't he made his move yet? I know he can easily overtake me due to my petite looks, but there is not even a hint of hatred or malice in his eyes.

At first, I think he is only playing a game with me, to taunt and lead me on before he kills me. But he is telling the truth. As much as I want to deny it, there is sincerity in his voice. "I guess you're right..."

"That's right, blondie."

"I have a name, you know." I retort and swallow my nervousness enough to ask another question. "What do I call you?"

"Well, I don't even know my first name." The boy stops to ponder, but then his face contorts into a devious grin. "My name is Soul Eater Evans. Just call me Soul." Soul Eater? And I thought it was only his nickname.

"My name is Maka, but you can call me Maka." He laughs at my joke, and my uneasiness begins to fade. Am I starting to feel...comfortable around him? Impossible. He's a murderer. A killer. He's guilty, and I can tell from the evil grin on his face. I'm still trying to convince myself that he's not what I know he is.

"Maka what?"

"Albarn."

"Well, that's a better name than mine. My name was given to me by a bunch of strangers."

"If you're not guilty like you say, then what makes you think that you were framed?" I already knew all about his case; I listened to it on the television:

_'March 13, 2:09 am. Police recieve a call from an early morning jogger (who chose to remain anonymous) that he hears shots being fired in the Evan's estate mansion. Young 'Soul Eater' Evans was found last night in his parent's bedroom, both wife and husband each shot in the head once with a .48 caliber pistol. He was found sprawled out on the bedroom floor, unconsious, with the murder weapon in his hand. There were no other fingerprints found on the pistol, and no sign of forced entry into the house. The Evan's first and eldest son, Wes, was not presently in the area at the time. Though all evidence was pointed towards him, he still denied that he had any part in their murder, claiming that he had no recollection of the events that occured on that night...'_

_"_I dunno. But I know that I'd never kill anyone, much less my parents," he sadly concluded. "I don't care if you believe me or not, I just want some closure for me and my parents, so thats why I'm on the run. People say that life is unfair and that I have to deal with whatever it throws at me, but I can't just sit here while the real killer runs free."

Feeling guilty for thinking that he was guilty, I try and sympathize. "Don't worry. You know what else people say? What comes around goes around, so you're bound to get something from this ordeal."

"Haha, if only it were that simple. If only the real world dealt with people that way, then life wouldn't suck that much." He's opening up to me... Why? I wonder. Why is he so calm in a situation like this? Soul peered up into the starry sky with a hopeless look where his smirk used to be. "Well, that's it for me, I guess. I should be going now."

"Where are you going?" This seals the deal for me; there is no way that Soul Eater Evans is guilty in my mind.

"I'm a fugitive, remember? I'm on the run, trying to uncover the truth. I want to find the real bastard who killed my parents." Soul turns the other way and raises his hand to wave me good-bye. "But I've bothered you enough. It was nice meeting someone like you. I'm pretty sure a regular person would've run away by now." Turning around to face me once more, he says, "Thanks for being my first friend in a while now," and then starts to walk away.

His body starts to fade into the darkness. "W-wait!" I shout before his form completely disappears. "I...I believe you." Soul pauses, abosorbing my words with hesitation. "If you're telling the truth about being innocent, and that you want to find who the real murderer is...then I will help you prove your innocence."

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**A/N: Phew, glad that chapter is over, it took me all night. Now my sleep cycle is fudged up. ****Oh well, long chapter is long. I hope you all enjoyed it, please leave a review.**

**~Silverbunni712**


	3. The Convict in the Closet

Chapter 3: The Convict in the Closet

"I...I believe you." I stop in my track, not sure whether to cry or to laugh. "If you're telling the truth about being innocent, and that you want to find who the real murderer is...then I will help you prove your innocence." I choose to laugh instead. Maka gives me a strange look and asks, "What? Do you not want my help?"

After I finish my chuckling I reply, "It's just that...no one's ever offered me their help like this."

"Do you want my help or not?" She asks me angrily.

"Hmph, what can a little girl like you do?" I chuckle again, testing if she was really ready for a problem like mine.

Adjusting her glasses and crossing her arms at me, she answers, "Don't doubt me! You don't even know me!"

"Okay. Fine. But don't blame me when something goes wrong; you're the one whose willing to do this," I shrug. "And just to let you know, I was gonna say yes anyways." I notice a small brooch in the shape of a skull pinned to her sweater near her shoulder and point to it. "What's that?"

"It's a the symbol of the academy that I go to; Death's Academy for the Naturally Gifted. It's a school where only the- "

"Wow," I whistle, cutting her off in mid-sentence. "That sounds fancy. It must mean that you're smart and that you can solve this case with ease, right?"

"Hardly," Maka scoffs as a cute and slight blush streaks across her cheeks. "I don't think I've obtained enough information to make that conclusion, but I know where to start. A good detective always-"

"Lets not start now. First, I need to worry about where I'm gonna sleep tonight." I had been exhausted for the whole night, and now my legs were starting to feel weak. Maybe if I went back to that building...no, they'll find me there...

"Yeah, it's getting late for me, too. I was supposed to be back home exactly 56 minutes and 49 seconds ago! My father's probably worrying right now..."

"We can meet up here tomorrow night, how does that sound?" I ask, still wondering where to find a place to sleep without the risk of getting caught.

"No, you might get caught. The police are all over the city looking for you. The safest place would probably be..." she thought hard for a moment. "There's only one way..."

"What?" I begged tiredly.

"What if you came home with me?" Her face lit up with the idea.

I let out a laugh so loud that I thought I would give our hiding place away. "Take me home with you? You're joking, right?"

"You act like you don't want my help at all!" Maka glared at me, completely serious. It seemed like there was no other option for me.

"Alright. I'll go. But don't you have a father that will catch me? I don't exactly think I'll get the welcome wagon when a convicted murderer walks through the front door."

"He won't. I'll just have to sneak you in," she smiles confidently. "Now the only thing is getting there. My house is approximately 943 and a half feet from where we're standing."

"And you know that how...?"

"I'm smart, remember?" she replied, mirroring my smirking face and grabbing my hand. "That's four blocks. Lets go!" Together, we ran through the darkness of the park and out into the street. Making sure there was no cops, Maka peeked out of corner and looked both ways before giving my hand a gentle tug.

To my relief, there was no sign of the police when we got up to the second block. All through the way, Maka had not let go of my hand as we walked. "It should be easy to get there now. I think the police have stopped searching for today." She finally breaks the silence between us and lets go of my hand. There is a long pause between us, until Maka decides to ask another question, which I don't mind answering. "So...how does it feel?"

"How does what feel?"

"To live like this- always on the run, always having excitement..." Maka looked at me with her olive-green eyes longingly.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but it ain't that great. When you're running, you've got a lot to think about. There's a lot to lose. And there's a lot of pressure."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I just thought that an exciting life would be better than mine."

"Don't apologize," I said. We came up to an apartment building complex, and Maka opened the door.

"Here we are. We live on the 8th floor in room 14." Maka began trotting up the stairs and asked me if I think I could make it to the floor. I tiredly nodded 'yes,' and trudged up slowly behind her. "When we get up to the door, stay out of the doorframe while I distract my dad. My room is all the way across the hallway in front of the door, 3rd door to the left. Okay?"

I hide out of sight of the door when it was opened, quietly waiting besides the doorframe on the wall. "Maka!" A man squealed upon opening. "Where have you been?! Papa's been so worried!"

"You don't have to be so excited. I was just late because of an after-school club." Maka glanced at me as her father hugged her and pulled her inside. "Hey Papa! Could you come to the kitchen for a second? I want to show you something." That was my cue. I quietly slipped through the door while Maka led her father away, and tiptoed down the hallway. I passed two doors down, creaked open the third to the left, and slowly disappeared into her room. Letting out a soft sigh of relief, I plopped down in the dark next to the door and closed my eyes. "Okay, Papa. That was all I wanted to show you, you can let of me now!" Maka said to her father with an exasperated tone in her voice. Her footsteps approached the door and she opened it, turning on the lights. "How are you feeling?" She murmurs as she closes the door behind her.

"I'm too tired to move," I exclaim, my eyes still shut. "And I'm not joking."

"Can't you at least take a shower? You look like you need one."

"Thanks for the compliment," I reply sarcastically. But she was right, of course. After wearing the same clothes for two months straight, so much grime and dirt had gotten on it that the original blue color was impossible to see behind the layer of muck. I take off my jacket and rub it on my greasy dark-blue jeans.

"I'll wash your stuff in the washing machine. In the mean time, I'll try to get you something from my dad's room. The bathroom is across my room and-"

"Oh Maka~ Who are you talking to?" Her father asked, his voice right outside the door.

Suddenly, Maka grabs my hand and shoves me to the wall as the door swings open. I land on the wall right behind where the it opens, out of sight from her father. "Papa!" She screams. "I was just about to change! Go away!"

"Sorry! I'll come back later!" The door slams away from my face.

"I had to do that, sorry," she lowered her voice more. "Damn, he gets annoying."

Ow...I rubbed my sore and achy back and slumped down on the floor again. "Now I really need a shower..." She took my dirt-covered jacket and tossed it onto a pile of her other clothes. I opened the door to her room and peeked left and right before creeping to the bathroom. Maka said that she had to stay with me in the bathroom just in case her father barges in while a unknown and strange-looking boy is bathing in his shower. "Or is it because you wanna get a glimpse of my hot body?" I smirk.

"Don't make me chop you," she glares through her glasses. "And it's not like there'll be anything to look at!"

"Ouch," I said as we went into the bathroom. Maka huffed and turned around as I took off my pants and underwear. "Well, if I have nothing to look at, then you better not be turning around." When I had finally taken my shirt off and made my way behind the shower curtain, I notified her to turn around. "I hope this is not be see-through," I say.

I hear her dragging a stool across the floor. "It's not," she replies. "Hold on a sec, I'm gonna try and sneak my dad's clothes for you." After telling her to take her time, the door opens and shuts softly. Taking a shower feels so refreshing, especially when you haven't taken one for two months. I finally get to wash the caking layers of crap off my body and the grease off my hair. I think I know why girls take such long showers now. With the water steaming hot, my back and muscles are relieved of their pain, and my stiff shoulders relax.

Shutting off the water and grabbing a towel hanging on the rack, I carefully step out of the shower, nice and clean for the first time in a long while. "Soul," Maka whispers from outside. "I've got clothes." Opening the door, she tossed them in with one hand and left. An over-sized white shirt, red pants and underwear for me. At least it was better than sleeping in a dank and lonely building.

"So where am I gonna sleep tonight?" I ask as I come into her room, still wiping my head dry. But she had already arranged my bed- in the closet, that is. The closet wasn't exactly the most comfortable bed, but luckily it could fit my whole body in it if I lay on my side. "Do I have to sleep in here?"

"Well, there's no other place to sleep, so this will just have to do for now." She said.

"Are you gonna be sleeping in those?" I point to her school outfit. After replying no, she turns on her laptop tells me that she'll be researching my case all night. "Whatever," I say. "Do you need any help?"

"You need to promise me one thing." She turned from the computer monitor to face me. "Promise me that whatever you tell me is the truth, and only the truth."

I've only had to mold myself to fit the profile of a cold-blooded killer. But this time I have no choice; if I really want to prove myself innocent, then I'll have to tell her everything I know about the case. Promising her that whatever I said was the truth (and only the truth), I began:

"Fine. I'l start with my parents. They owned a medical research facility, which helped find cures for many diseases. Thanks to that, my family's business became very famous and world-renowned. The business became rich, and so did we. My older brother and I, Wes, were born with a silver spoon in our mouths. We got whatever we wanted, and did whatever we wanted. Soon after, the company became richer so we moved to a wealthy area and bought a mansion, where we lived for a few years. Life was nice there...I had a couple of good friends. But then the murder happened."

"Did your family make any enemies, or people that would want to cause them harm?" She asked, with a notebook and pencil in her hands.

"I wouldn't know. I never really cared for all that medical research and crap, even though my parents tried to talk me in to being the next heir. But my parents? Besides trying to get me to take over the family job, they never gave two shits about me or Wes. It was all about money, their wealth, how the research as going, and how rich they got. They never cared for me or my older brother, their own two sons. So when Wes was old enough to go to any college he pleased, he did."

"Your brother was not in the area- where was he exactly?" Maka twiddled with her pencil and stared intensely at the notes.

"He was somewhere else in the country."

"Which means he had an alibi," she finished my sentence. "So I doubt it could be him... Are there any other people or close relatives that were not on good terms with yours?"

"I told you, I have no idea. If anyone were to have anything, it would be my brother. He paid more attention to the business than me."

"Hm...I'll see what I can find tonight. In the mean time, you can rest for the night. Besides, you deserve a good night's sleep." Maka turned back to the computer screen.

I cuddled inside the small and somewhat-cramped closet and closed the door. Even though it was filled with Maka's girly outfits, I could at least get a little comfort from the warmth. I left the door slightly ajar so I could get some air. "Hey Maka," I called one last time. "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah, I can hear."

"I forgot to say 'thank you.'" I figured that those words will suffice for everything that happened today.

"Your welcome," she answered, but her voice lowered. "I have something to tell you too."

"Yeah?

"This might be the most important puzzle I ever will solve."


	4. Innocent Until Proven Guilty

Chapter 4: Innocent Until Proven Guilty

I yawn quietly, trying not to wake up the sleeping boy in my closet. Looking over all my notes, I rub my eyes and think harder. Maybe if I listen to him snore gently in the closet, then I might think of something. I stand up and go over the door and open it slowly, making sure that the light of my lamp didn't hit his eyes. After leaving the door slightly ajar again, I sit back down at my desk and stare at the screen that held no information, and then at the clock. I had promised myself that I would go asleep at 3:00 am to make sure I got my REM sleep, which is the most important time of sleep. Research shows that...wait I'm blabbing again, aren't I? Anyways, it's 4:12 already, and I can guarantee that I will be cranky tomorrow. But thankfully I have not wasted anytime researching on the crime. I gained background knowledge about the business on their website, searched up Wes Evans, and looked for any rivaling medical research facilities that would proper if the Evan's company were to fall.

All these notes, but nothing adds up. Nothing made sense. I have all the pieces, but I just can't put this puzzle together! There were so many reeling questions (three big ones) such as:

1) How could you go through all the trouble to kill someone who owns a mansion, tons of money, and many valuable things in their possession, without taking anything? I had ruled out possible robbery; there was nothing taken, and the house was kept in order. No sign of forced entry. No other fingerprints on the gun. No other evidence that I can pinpoint. It was like the real murderer was not there at all. It could mean that the real killer could be rich him/herself. It could be either gender, too.

2) Why would you just kill the parents and not the son, the heir to the throne? If he was killed along with the parents, then you would ultimately kill off where the money was going. The motive seemed off- meaning that there was an ulterior motive, but what? What could one gain by getting rid of the parents? And then there was another question.

3) Why would you need to frame someone? If it were a regular murder, then the killer would've killed, then left. But for what reason would you frame him? Unless...unless you knew you were going to get caught. Unless you were really close to the family; close enough to become a suspect. It meant that the real murderer could be hiding in plain sight. But who?

Even with all this information, I can only conclude one thing:

This crime was a personal crime; whoever did this wanted vengeance.

* * *

"Psst, Maka...sweetheart. It's time to wakey-wakey!" My eyes open slowly as I wake to the sound of my father hovering over me. I reach for my glasses, which I always place on the side of my desk. But this time they weren't there; they were on my face because instead of actually changing into my pajamas, I just collapsed on my bed without even pulling the covers over my head.

"Papa...go away, I can wake up myself." I crane my head around and observe the room, which was perfectly as I had left it. The computer was still on and my notebook was still open with the pencil next to it.

"You're gonna be late if you don't wake up now! What's wrong with you today? I usually find you reading your book even before I wake up." He's right; by 6:30 everyday I am always enjoying my book at the dinner table. "Don't worry one bit! I'll help you prepare by getting your clothes from the closet..."

The closet?! I shot up from the bed and screamed, "Wait, Papa! Don't go in the closet!" His hand was just about to turn the doorknob, but he paused and gave me a quizzical look.

"Why? What's in the closet that's so important to you?" He turns the knob anyways, in total disregard of what I said, and swung the door open. I gasp and cringe, hoping to God that my father would not get mad if he learned that I was housing a wanted criminal in my closet. "Haha! What are you talking about? Here, I'll grab you outfit for you~" He smiles.

"H-huh?" I open my eyes and stare into the empty closet. Am I still dreaming or something? There were no bed sheets on the floor and no white-haired red-eyed boy in my closet and no sign of anyone spending the night there. It was just a closet full of clothes. "Wha...huh?"

"Are you feeling well? It looks like you just saw a ghost. Oh well, I'll just leave now!" Papa left the room.

Maybe it was just a dream. A scary, vivid, and interesting dream. Just kidding, I remind myself, because it was only three hours and forty-eight minutes and fifty-two seconds ago that I checked on Soul, who was sleeping peacefully in that very room. I wonder where he could be. I check under my bed and under the desk, but he wasn't there.

Suddenly, I hear a tap on the window next to my dresser. I ran towards the window and found Soul, smirking at me through the glass out on the fire escape, his hands behind his back. I laugh softly and slide it open. "Got something for ya," he says, handing me the notebook I dropped yesterday on the street.

"Thanks." I ask, flipping though the book and skimming all my notes.

"So this is why you bothered me," he grins. "Never seemed like you were the adventurous type."

"Well, I wasn't. Until the day I met you," I admit.

"Well then, you are lucky to have met me."

"The same goes for you." Ever since I met him, it seems as if my ability to counter-act his snarky remarks have improved much. "Anyways, if you're gonna stay here, then there's food in the fridge. I'll cover for you, as long as you don't eat the entire thing. My Papa will go to work soon and returns around 3:05 to 3:20. I will definitely skip my extracurricular activities after school so I can-"

"Okay, okay, I get it. Just chill, I know what I'm doin'," he shrugs me off and squeezes his way into my room. "It's not like I'm gonna do anything bad. Did you get anything last night?"

"Not much," I said guilty. "This case might be a little harder to crack than I thought. I might need to really dig deeper." Last night I had tried to narrow down the possible suspects, but that was as easy as trying to find a 2 inch long needle in a 10 feet tall haystack. Which, by the way, is impossible. There were so many other factors, so many other variables to consider. "I have to go to school now, so don't so anything stupid."

"No promises."

Sighing on my walk to school, I still cannot get the crime out of my head- it was the first time I have been nearly stumped from something like this in a long time. Oh well, at least it's reassuring that I'm still human in that I am able to become stumped once in a while. I stare down into my notebook full of notes that were only legible to me, but I still get nothing. Then, my eyes meet the word "Wes," along with some other notes under his name. He was supposed to be the heir to the money, not Soul. However, the parents suddenly changed their will and made Soul the new heir. Why would they do that? Shortly after, Wes moved out of the mansion and went to Chicago to go to college, then the murder occurred. Since he was away at the time, there was no suspicion that he would be a suspect.

Wes knew things about the company that Soul does not, which would make him the best person to go to if we were doing an investigation like this. Even thought everyone is innocent until proven guilty, sometimes it is best to think of them guilty until proven innocent.

I think it's time to pay Soul's brother a little visit.

* * *

I ran into my room right after I got home and barraged Soul with questions. "Do you have any idea where Wes is right now?!"

"Do I know where my brother is right now? How am I supposed to know?" He asked me. He slouched in my desk chair while I paced around my room.

"I think that if we were to get a ahold of some of the information that your brother has, then it could bring it closer to the real killer!" I said. Soul averted his eyes from mine and looked down in thought.

"My brother and I have always been very close ever since we were little," he began. "But...he wasn't there at the trial. He stopped trying to talk to me when I was at the juvenile center. It's like he didn't want to know me anymore, even though I told him I didn't do it. If I get to see him again, what would he think? I never even knew if he believed me or not."

After his eyes finally met mine, I ask, "Wouldn't you want to find out?"

"I think I'm afraid to hear the answer," he manages a faint smile. "But if it's for the case, then what can I say?" I'm worried, though. If we go on this mission, there's no other time we'll be able to go except during...school. "What's wrong?" Soul peers at my face.

"Oh, it's nothing," I lie. Truthfully, I can't remember the last time I missed school. Oh wait, yes I can. It was on the 4th of January in Kindergarten at 10 in the morning, when I came down with a horrible cold. It was the worst day of my life.

"Y'know, when we were little he used to tell me his dreams. He always wanted to go to New York City and live here. He'd say he wanted to move to the upper east side, escape from my mom and dad, start a family. I used to look up to that dream, but he told me to have my own-"

"Wait! Before you get all emotional!" My mind started to think properly again. "Where did you say he wanted to go?!"

"Okay, sheesh. It was the upper east side where most rich people live."

"That's where we have to go! Wes is probably there moving in or something."

"What are the chances of him actually being there?" He dismissed nonchalantly.

"Probably 5 out of 134, but you never gave me a chance to calculate it fully..." I say, starting to process the numbers in my new probability formula into simple fractions. Soul laughed.

"You're so weird."

"Well, you asked."

"Hope you won't be scared again," he taunted me with that smirk, which I answered back with a glare. "Don't worry, I'll hold your hand."

"Shut up."

Tomorrow morning, I will wake up and start my morning as usual. Papa will see me and then he will go to work, while I painfully pretend to go to school. As soon as I'm out the door I will kiss my near-perfect school record good-bye, and take the opposite direction towards the train station. There, Soul will be waiting for me, and we will make our way to the upper east side where we will (maybe with a slight possible chance) meet Wes.

I made my way down the subway steps with a small purse containing necessities- some spare money that I managed to talk my dad into giving me, the notebook and pencil that had all my research in, and my dad's credit card (What? This _is_ an emergency). Soul stood at the corner near the bottom of the stairs wearing a black hoodie with the hood pulled low over his eyes and his blue jeans that I washed for him. He leaned up at the corner with his arms crossed and eyes hidden underneath the hood. "What took you so long?" He glanced up at me and uncrossed them.

"I was just preparing for the trip. And...I called the school to tell them that I wouldn't be coming today because I'm...sick," I grimace at those very words. "I'll go get our ticket to the train."

"Hey." He caught up to me as I went to get the tickets. "If there are police here, then I'm screwed. I'm already getting weird looks." I glance around and saw some people staring. Crap, this is not good. My adventure barely started and we're already having problems!

"Ugh," I exclaim. "How can we try to look less inconspicuous and at the same time get to where we need to go?" I ask myself. A hand grabs mine, and Soul tugs me toward him.

My face goes hot when I land on his chest, and I let out a little gasp. What is he doing? "Listen," he leans his mouth on my ear so close that I can feel his hot breath. "I know this will sound strange, but I have an idea on how we can look less standout-ish."

"What is it?" I turn my head around and peek at the passerby people, who are no longer paying attention to us.

"Let's pretend to be a couple." I feel his other hand slide across my back and pull me closer to his body. My body tenses for a moment, but as his warmth fills my body it begins to relax. Letting go of me, he asks, "Is that gonna be alright with you?" I pause and wait for the response to leave my mouth, but nothing comes out. I stood there, staring into his burning red gaze for about...about an amount of time...I forgot. "Okay? Hello? Are you spacing out on me?"

For the first time in my life, I had stopped counting.


	5. My Brother's Keeper

Chapter 5: My Brother's Keeper

It was a crazy idea. But what was more inconspicuous: a strange-looking boy with a black hood and an innocent-looking school girl randomly walking together, or a strange-looking boy with a black hood and an innocent-looking school girl _holding hands_ and randomly walking together? The second one sounded less threatening, even though I'm not the cuddly type.

"Let's pretend to be a couple," I whisper carefully into her ear after pulling her close to my body. Maka usually had a response for everything that I said. This time she remained silent.

"C-couple?" She finally answers after I wave my hand in front of her distant eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I think that if we act like we're in a relationship, it will make us look like less of a target," I whisper again. Maka and I glance around and see that the people who had been staring suspiciously at me before were not anymore.

"You're right." She took my hand and we walked briskly to the ticket machine. "But we don"t have to be hold hands the whole time." Letting go of my hand, Maka punched in some numbers on the machine, and two tickets came out of a little slot. She handed one to me, explaining to me how to use it and other stuff which I didn't bother to listen to.

Maka scanned the card in a scanner and went through the booth, followed by me, who had no clue how to use it. I've never been to New York before, much less the subway. And it seemed like she knew as much as me when it came to which train we would take next. She spent at least 10 minutes staring at a poster-diagram that supposedly told you what train would take you where, but it just looked like a bunch of colorful lines with numbers next to them. When I complained to her, she replied, "I've only spent exactly two minutes and fourteen seconds here. But now I have the directions memorized so I know where to go."

"You remembered that in less than three minutes?" I ask.

"If you don't hurry up, we'll miss the train." Then she went on to talking about what trains we'll be going on and what direction. Which I didn't pay attention to. While she talks on, I notice some cops standing in the corner that we were coming to.

Oh shit.

"What are you doing?!" She demands as I wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her to my side.

"As of now, we're a fake couple, remember?" I asked, surprised that she could memorize a whole complicated diagram and yet fail to remember that I was still a fugitive. A blush covers her face and she accepts my embrace. Even with my hood mostly over my face, we pass the police with not even a glance.

I feel Maka trying to cuddle up to my side as we continue to walk, but she still looks the other way. "This way." She points to a station and guides me there. We push our way into the train, whose crowd was worse than the city streets themselves with the edition of limited space. But I do my best trying to hang onto her hand and trying not to lose her in the crowd. Even though a bunch of people block our view from each other, I could feel her grip on my hand tighten as if saying, 'You better not let go.'

The train screeches to a stop and the crowd shifts together as a whole forward, then back as it eases into the terminal. I struggle to pull her out of the suffocating mass as they push me out and go in random directions. Suddenly, I feel her grip slip from mine, and I lose her.

Oh shit. Again.

"Maka!" I called out and keep pushing past the people. But it is impossible to find her. "Maka!" On the other side, I could have sworn I heard my name being called. Desperation filled my voice as her cries got father away. Eventually I gave up pushing and stopped in the middle, calling until my voice went hoarse.

"Soul!" Maka crashes through the crowd and grabs my arm tightly, looking as panicked as me. "Don't...ever...do that again..." she huffed, out of breath.

"You don't have to worry about that..." I sigh with relief and snatch her hand. We ran through the crowd together, holding on tighter than ever, to our next train.

Getting through the next two rides were no problem to us; as long as I kept holding her hands or my arms were around her, we were not noticed at all. But of course when you're a traveling felon, trouble always follows you, whether you notice it or not. Soon enough, Maka sees some police officers pointing and whispering at me, but when they come to approach us we are already in a full sprint. With Maka as my guide once again, we rush past everyone and around every corner.

Those damn coppers know how to surround me every time. As we round another corner, they are already on the other side. I turned around and see that they're behind us too. "Soul, what do we do now?" Maka asks and stares intensely at the oncoming officers. "There's no way we can run past them. You've been doing this for a long time, so don't you know some fast trick to get us outta here? Don't just stand there!" She hisses. It feels like the walls were closing in on us as the officers get closer, and my head springs up a crazy idea.

My eyes dart around for something as the police close in on us. Then I spot it.

Maka lets out a small squeal as I yank her into a small corner and pin her up against the wall. "Just follow what I'm doing," I whisper to her face. "Sometimes it's better to hide in plain sight."

"What...what are you doing?!" She squeaks, her face completely enveloped in a reddened blush as I move closer to her.

"Shh..." Our bodies are so close together now I can feel her warmth, but I move my head closer to hers. Maka murmurs something incoherent under her breath and begins to close her eyes. I feel my eyes closing as well, but I know that now is not the time to get romantic.

It was as if no one was around us, and we were just in our own little space. All the noise around us muted, and no cops coming after us; Maka and I were alone in a completely different universe. Or at least it felt this way. Just as our lips were about to touch, I snap myself back to reality, open my eyes, and stop myself. Maka's eyes were still half-closed and trance-like, even when the police had come near. "You said they were here?" I can hear them standing right behind us, getting closer now. "Hey! You there!" It was exactly how I had planned - they spot us and began to approach.

"Do you mind?" I growl, turning my head slightly to the left.

"Oh, um, sorry," one replied gruffly. There was a scuffle of more boot steps, and they were gone. I turned my head back to Maka, who was still blushing like mad and starting to glare.

When I let go of her and we stopped touching she almost blew her top at me, but stopped as soon as she figured out that the police weren't chasing us anymore. "Well? You told me to do something, so I did." I shrug at her, making it seem like I had done this a million times, which I haven't. It was actually the first time I had ever gotten this close to a girl in my life.

* * *

I take a deep breath of fresh, non-subway air and stretch out. After taking four trains and running all over, we has finally reached our destination- the upper east side of New York. Now, we just had to look for my brother, who could be anywhere in the thousands of residences. Or maybe he's not here at all. "Now where too?" I ask, examining the endless rows of mansions down the street.

"I have no idea where to pick up from here."

"What?! I thought smart people were supposed to be smart!"

"And I thought beggars can't be choosers, especially ones that have a criminal record over their head," she deadpans.

"Okay, fine!" I raised my hands in submission. "Let's start by where we should look first. I don't think we'd be able to do door-to-door; that would take too long."

"I think you already know the answer," she turned to me and said. "You know your brother more than me, so where do you think he would live here?"

When Wes and I were children, he was always the cool older brother; he was like the guardian that I never had, considering that my parents were never there. We even leaned instruments together - I decided to learn the piano while he would learn violin. This way, we could each have a talent of our own. Whenever there was time, we would go down to the beach during the evening, when the sun was low in the sky and its heat no longer dwelled, and look for sea glass. In our mansion, we always kept a jar full of sea glass - Wes had always loved the way it reflected in the sunlight, casting an array of colors in the sand.

Sea glass. My brother had always adored beaches, but not only beaches; water in general. "He's probably near the ocean, or a river of some sort," I say.

"Good," she answers and closes her eyes, probably looking over the photographically-memorized map in her head. "There's a river south of here, and some mansions that live on the river side. Maybe we should check there first." I nod silently.

The truth was, in fact, I had loved my brother more than anyone else in my life. He always looked out for me, always took care of me, and always stood up for me. So when he never picked up the phone even once when I called him from jail, it was like a slap to the face. In prison, you are only allowed one phone call a week, whether they picked up or not. Seeing that I had no one else to turn to, I turned to my big brother, who, incidentally, decided that he would not be there for me anymore. You could just imagine the things I felt when I learned that he was not at the trial, or when I had wasted all my calls on him and he never picked up, or all that time I hoped and prayed in that tiny little cell that one day, I would be able to see and hear his voice again.

Anger. Betrayal. Abandonment. Sadness.

The list could go on.

But when I met Maka, it was the fist sign of happiness for me in months. Like the first ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. Or some other crappy metaphor.

We made our way down the street, past the many rich and fancy houses, until a river was in sight. It was a wide one with an island on the other side and rows of houses faced it - like the kind of houses Wes had always wanted. "So what now?" I ask, pulling my hood over my head again. "I can't go around door to door looking like I want to rob them."

"While I walk up to ask them where Wes Evans lives, you just hang back and out of sight just in case someone recognizes you," she says.

The streets near the river smell fresh with the breeze, even though the water itself was murky and dirty. At the first house on the corner, I duck into some bushes within earshot and watch as Maka walks up to the front door. The door bell rings and I suck in my breath. "Hello? How can I help you?" A voice of a fragile old lady answers, and I relax.

"Good evening," Maka says politely. "I'm sorry to bother you, but do you happen to know where Wes Evans lives?"

"Wes...Evans?" She asks slowly, and I imagine her trying to search her brain for an answer. "The brother of the boy who murdered his parents?" I grimace at those words.

"Um...yes." Maka's words falter.

"Ah, yes. I know him. He moved just down the street from here, about um...six houses down!" She exclaimed.

"Oh, thank you," Maka replied happily. "That's all."

* * *

I shifted uneasily from my left foot to right before ringing the doorbell. Maka stood behind me and had told me that I should be the one to face him first, because after all, this was my case and my brother. "Are you ready for this?" She asks nervously.

Was I ready to face the person who I trusted the most and then betrayed me? I placed my finger gingerly on the button to the bell and swallow any nervousness and regrets. We were here for a mission, not for a personal confrontation, I remind myself. Pushing the button in, a sharp ring rang out from inside the house. I froze, waiting for the door to open, and hoped it was another old lady that would say, 'Sorry, I don't know any Wes Evans.' But instead a short stumpy lady in a maid outfit opened the door and gave me a dull stare.

"We don't want any," she said with a heavy foreign accent and almost closed the door.

I stopped it with my hand and continued. "Does a Wes Evans live here?" Replying only with a nod, the woman opens the door and leaves into the house for a moment. I glance back at Maka, who urges me on with a nudge.

"Coming!" The sound of his voice made me jump after hearing it for the first time in almost a year. Wes came out in a black suit and red tie, along with sleek black shoes. As soon as his eyes met mine, he froze. "You...? Where did you come from?" His voice trailed off in shock, and he seemed more disappointed than happy to see his long-lost little brother.

"Wait." I hold up my hands before he can utter another word. "I just have to make one thing clear." Just in case he calls me by my first name, I tell him that my past self had died; I was now Soul. Soul Eater.

"What are you doing here?" Wes examines me from head to toe, as if making sure that it was really me and not some ghost. "How did you escape from jail?" That's it? Not even a hug or 'it's finally nice to see you.' Peeking his head outside the door, he says, "Never mind my questions, just come inside and we'll talk. We have so much to talk about now."

And I was scared to hear his answers.


	6. Past Lives

Chapter 6: Past Lives

I look back at Wes, then to Soul and my brain immediately begins to process. Wes Evans: Age 23. White hair, red eyes. 5'10. _It's like looking in a mirror,_ I think. With one sweeping hand motion, Wes invites us inside. "And who is this lovely lady?" He acknowledges me with a gentle smile.

Soul gives me a side-glance and sullenly answers, "This is Maka Albarn. She's helping me prove I'm innocent. Which you should know, right? 'Cause I've called you a million times to tell you that, but you never answered." Wes averts his eyes from him, stares down into the polished granite floor and remains silent. We walked down narrow hall dimly lit with small electric candles, almost like we were walking in a labyrinth.

"I need to explain myself to you," he answered softly. My eyes kept darting back and forth between Soul and his brother, Soul obviously discontented and Wes looking slightly uncomfortable. "I'm glad that you're here now." He cleared his throat. The corridor opened up into a large room with a fire place softly illuminating the room with a long dinning room table. Wes took his seat next to the fireplace and we sat across from him. Glowering at the furious embers of the fire, Soul still refused to look his brother in the eye. "You deserve to be mad at me," Wes' sudden response made his gaze soften into the slightest guilt.

"Don't you think it's a little too late for an apology?" Soul said bitterly. "Why weren't you there at the trial and why didn't you answer my phone calls?"

Wes chuckled sadly. "Let me explain myself. At the time, I was visiting some friends in Chicago. It was late at night when the police called me to tell me that mom and dad had been murdered, and that you were the number one suspect. It didn't truly sink in until it was morning, but when it did, I had no idea what to do," he said, squeezing his fists on his lap. "They wouldn't let me interfere with the crime, and I was about to move to New York anyways to this house."

I try not to interrupt, but my curiosity piques. "Where did you live before this?"

"We lived in California." Soul adds in suddenly. "Anyways, continue."

"I just couldn't believe what I was told...but then I heard the details of the crime. The police asked me some questions, and that was it. I couldn't help... I couldn't help believe that you really did it." Soul finally looks up from his gloomy gaze over the fireplace to look his brother in the eyes. "Yes, I admit it. I did not believe that you didn't commit that crime. And I was scared...which was why I refused to pick up. I wouldn't have been able to listen to you after what you did...but it's different now. I'm finally ready to hear you out."

"You...don't think I'm guilty anymore?" Soul asks.

"If you were, then why else would you trouble yourself to come here?"

"We're here because we have some questions to ask to about the murder," he says, glancing at me. And also probably so Soul could get some closure with his brother, but he didn't seem mention that.

As soon as Wes turns his attention to me, I clear my throat and open my notebook full of questions. "Is it okay if I were to ask some questions?" I make sure to ask politely.

He nods and says, "Go ahead."

"Is there any company that you know of that would want the Evans company out of the way?"

"There were such companies, however my father often negotiated with them to have a compromise with us. So we didn't have a lot of problems with the others."

I adjust the glasses on my face write down every word he says.

"Do you know any person who is close to you family that would want to hurt you or anyone else?"

"Well, we were never exactly the most social people. We only had a close few family friends."

I lean in closer towards him with my pencil still writing across the page. "Could you name them for me, please?"

"Oh, yes, I know someone you could look at," he said, ignoring my question and thinking for a second. "There was one man who was the one who paid for Soul's lawyer. He's been our research partner for a number of years now, always helping the company with his studies, so if anything, you'd want to ask him these questions. Also, he was much more of a father than our father ever was. He had always taken care of us when we were young." I see Soul perking up with anticipation of the sound of the man's name.

"Dr. Landau," they said exactly in unison together.

I jot down his name quickly and underline it four and a half times.

* * *

"Did you find what you're looking for?" He asked quietly while we rode the train home.

"It was not much information, but at least we have a name," I answer. "Did _you_ find what you're looking for?"

Soul offers me a sad smile and says, "He actually believed I was a murderer...but he was still willing to listen to what I had to say."

"Are you okay with it now?"

"Well, it doesn't matter now," he chuckled. "It's too late for that crap. What matters now is that we're one step closer to finding out who the real murder is."

Opening my notebook, I skim through all the note-ridden pages and find the man's name. "Dr. Landau," I repeat, taking out my pen again. "Can you tell me about him?"

Soul leans back in his seat and looks up at the ceiling nonchalantly. "When we were younger, he was just some old guy who kept visiting our house and gave us present once in a while. The guy treated us like we were his own sons. I didn't really pay attention to him, though. After he spent some time at our house, he'd go into my parents' work room and we wouldn't see him until later in the day. I assume that he was working with my parents on the business and whatever. And that was it," he shrugged.

Even with this little information, I still wrote every word down. All 84 words, and still counting. "Anything else?"

"Wouldn't know. Why don't we ask him himself? Wes gave us a number."

I glance down at the paper with a bunch of numbers scribbled sloppily next to Dr. Landau's name, even though I knew I didn't need to write it down because I had it memorized already. "Anyways, when are we gonna take a break? I'm freakin' starving," he said, patting his stomach like a small child would do.

"We can find a place in Penn Station, which is like a rest stop in the subway in the city. They have a lot of places to eat."

"Wonderful," he smirks. "How many more stops do we have to wait for until we get off this stupid train?"

"Only five more." I remember the time we entered Wes' house, which was exactly 12:47 pm. We spent 43 minutes and nine seconds until our departure, so it would mean that we had left at 1:30, and that meant that we would have until 3:00 to get home on time without my father having a breakdown. Right now, it's about 1:58 since we had gotten on the train and the commute takes about...I'm blabbering again...so I shouldn't worry anymore about time. We have time...

"Hey." My eyes open slowly to the feeling of someone gently nudging my shoulder. "Hey. Wake up, it's time to go now."

"Five more minutes..." I murmur and snuggle with something warm and firm against my chest.

"C'mon we're gonna miss our stop. You promised you'd buy lunch, too." My shoulder was shook harder, and I was forced to open my eyes. Soul's face seemed closer than usual, that is, until I realized that I had lolled off to sleep and leaned on my head on his shoulder, and that the warm thing I had been hugging was his arm.

"S-sorry!" I cry and jump back from his face. "I must've fallen asleep," I blush.

"It's fine." Soul says and stands up, offering a hand. "Let's just go before we get lost."

Thankfully taking his offered hand, we head out of the train together side-by-side and made our way up the stairs to Penn Station with me grinning like an idiot. "So where are we gonna eat?" He shouts over the noisy crowd.

"Wherever you want," I smile softly and clinging onto his arm.

In the station, it's much less crowded than I had expected. Soul yanks me into the nearest MacDonald's while muttering something about wanting a burger. I read him loud and clear by getting a burger for him and me.

"Sho how's ur adventure sho far," he asks with a full half of a cheeseburger stuffed in his mouth.

"It's better than expected," I admit. In my constant daydreams, I had wanted a book filled with adventure and a dash of romance. _A dash of romance._ Had I really grown fond of this boy in front of me?

"What? Was it something I said?" He asks suddenly.

"Oh! It's nothing." I take my glasses off my flushed face and rub them furiously against my sweater vest, then clumsily put them back.

"Oh, okay. 'Cause you were looking at me funny, I just thought I said something wrong," he laughs and goes back to chewing on his food. "Are you gonna eat that?"

He points to my untouched wrapped burger that I had bought out of impulse, and I slide it across the table to him. Soul graciously accepts my gift by beginning to gulp that one down, too. I knew I had began to stare at his face dreamily, because I was taught that it was natural to eye something that you liked. _A dash of romance,_ I thought disgustedly. _A dash of romance_ was not the feeling that I felt inside of me.

It was more like a small something, slowly blooming inside of my heart until it fully consumed it, until I could not deny the fact that I felt that feeling.

_Love._ I had learned that it was the feeling that could not be describe by words, and that it was mysterious and unexplainable in every way, and that you could not possibly know what it remotely meant until you had experienced it firsthand.

And "love" was not something that I could simply decipher, or solve, or even write out a mathematic equation for. Even with all this information, I still came back to the same conclusion:

I could not solve "love" like I would solve any other problem.

* * *

Soul dials the number written down on the paper slowly and meticulously as I watch. I had convinced him that he should also be the first one to hear his voice because after all, he was his childhood friend and close family member. After putting the phone in my room on speaker we listen silently to the ringing from the other side, and hold our breaths silently while waiting for the line to pick up. "H-hello?" A gruff voice wheezes. It was a deep and husky voice, the kind of voice you would find coming from a withered old man. "Hello?" It rumbles again.

I nudge Soul softly in the ribcage. "Dr. Landau?" He asks nervously.

"Who is this?"

"This is...Soul. Soul Evans from the Evans family. Our family used to work with you?"

"Ahh...Soul Evans? Soul Evans...from the Evans family..."

"Yeah. You used to visit us, Wes and Soul, whenever you came over to do some research at our house."

"Soul? I don't remember anyone by the name of Soul from that house."

"When I got sent to prison, I changed my name to that. You were the one to pay for my lawyer."

"Oh, yes. I remember you now! You were the one who was accused of killing but said you did not do it! Well, at least I tried my best to help you out, but that was all I can do now.

I'm sorry, but I can't help you anymore -"

"No!" Soul interrupts. "That's not what I called you about. Right now, I've escaped prison and I'm on the run trying to prove that I'm innocent. My friend who I'm living with needs to ask you some questions to help us with finding out who the real murderer is -"

"Hm... on the run, you say? Where are you now? What is your address?"

I whisper my address into Soul's ear. "I'm in New York City right now."

After tell him our address, the doctor thinks it over for a minute with silence. "I see. And how close do you think you are to finding the real culprit?" Soul looks at me for an answer.

"Um, if I may..." I say modestly into the speaker phone.

Upon hearing my voice, Landau asks, "And who might I be speaking to now?"

"My name is Maka Albarn. I'm the one who is helping Soul on this case."

"Oh, how lovely," he chuckles heartily. "It seems as if my Soul has already found a lover!"

"Eh?!" We cry and exchange glances as my face begins to flush again. "No! It's not like that!" I say quickly. "I just ran into him one day and I decided that I wanted to help him and I really wanted to write an adventure novel so I saw this as a perfect opportunity to -"

Landau chuckles on the other line at our confusion, and coughs a few times after his laugh. "I was joking. Youngsters these days...so what did you want to ask me?"

Once again, Soul and I glance at each other before I answer. "Uh...yeah. I just wanted to know if you'd have an idea of anyone who would want to assassinate the Evans and get them out of the way. I mean, like, competition-wise."

After hearing him grumble to himself constantly in between my questions, he wields no new information; everything that Wed had said he was saying the same exact things. I sigh with frustration as Soul hangs up the phone and plop down in my computer chair. "What now?" He asks, sensing my anger.

"We're going nowhere with this crime. We've run out of leads and probable leads, and we don't even have any suspects. Wes has a solid alibi, and the doctor seems to old and friendly to even do it. There's no one else that we know that could've done it," I say sadly.

"Maybe we have to dig deeper," he suggest calmly. Soul seemed to be handling this pressure easier than me, considering that I usually never was challenged by things like this. But I never liked to disappoint anyone; I was going to solve this case, even if it'll kill me. Even though I might regret thinking those words later on.

"You're right, I have to push on." My mind immediately starts to process of the information gained so far. "I have to dig deeper..."

Tonight, while Soul sleeps, I promised myself that I would stay up for as long as it takes to find more stuff (though bad sleeping habits are bad in general), for Soul's sake.

_For Soul's sake,_ I remind myself.


	7. Prison Break, Part One

Chapter 7: Prison Break, Part One

I awake to the sound of Maka muttering in the background. Slumping up in the closet, I open the door and look out, finding that she had fallen asleep at her computer desk while researching. I grumble to myself and get out of the closet. Wouldn't want Maka to be grumpy in the morning.

Deciding not to wake her up, I take her glasses off her face and put them in their usual spot - on her desk next to the alarm clock, and carry her over to her bed. I gently set her down, even though she was still in her school clothes, and tuck the covers over her body. She murmurs something about guns in her sleep. Her notebook was filled with notes that I couldn't even hope to understand or read because they were written to messily, and I glance up at her computer screen. For the last few days ever since we had called Landau, Maka's been working harder than usual on the case, which brought cause for worry. "Why do you keep asking the same question over and over again?" I had asked her since she repeated the same question: Does the Evans family have any known enemies?

"A good detective always asks until they get an answer," she had replied. I answered with something about her being a total nerd, which was totally uncool. I shut off the monitor and turn around, stretching and yawning. My eyes fell upon sleeping Maka.

She turned on her side on the bed and let out a relaxed sigh. How cute. Maka's pretty cute, compared to all the girl's I've seen. I smirk to myself and turn off the desk light before making my way back to the closet.

* * *

"Are you sure you're gonna be alright today?" She asks me for the millionth time, every day before she leaves for school.

"Yeah, yeah," I shrug for the millionth time, every day in front of her before she leaves for school. "As long as there's food and water, I'll survive."

"Okay, then. I'll see you after school," she smiles and walks down the hallway of the apartment building and down the stairs.

I've lost count on how long I've lived here with Maka and her weird father, but I know it's been long. Especially since her dad's gotten used to all the explanations she would make whenever something in the fridge would go missing, so I can eat all I want. I dig in the fridge for a carton of milk and bring out a bowl for my cereal. Propping my feet up on the coffee table, I munch on my cereal and watch the boring morning news. One headline catches my eyes.

_'The Search for Soul Eater Evans Continues,'_ the newscaster says. I put down my bowl and lean in closer to the TV. _'It has been a few weeks since the escape of the wanted criminal Soul Eater Evans, but authorities assure the public that he will be captured one day. However, the knowledge of his whereabouts are still unknown -'_

"Fuck you..." I mutter and flip to Spongebob, going back to stuffing the cereal in my cheeks.

I never thought of going into Maka's room while she was out, because searching through a girl's private stuff (especially if she's helping you) is totally uncool. But I do anyways. The door to her room creaks open and I walk in casually. I'd never really taken a good look of her room even though I've slept in it for a few weeks and sat in it with her for a few weeks, even watching her do her research late at night. And she obviously didn't mind my presence, either.

Stepping carefully over her clothes scattered all over the floor, I make my way to her bookshelf first, scanning through every title she had. You don't even need to get to know Maka to guess she was a bookworm.

I chuckle at all of the nerdy books she had and go over to her desk where her computer was. Resting right next to the monitor was something that I hadn't noticed before. I pull it out of the corner and see that it was a picture of her father and her, smiling happily and holding hands at a baseball game. Maka and her father? Happy? It never seemed like that when I was around. But at least he seemed realer than my father.

When I get bored of playing with the little medals she has hanging up near her closet, I go back to the television and try to find something interesting on.

This is the daily life Soul Eater Evans - consisting of watching the TV, sitting and doing nothing, and raiding my friend's fridge so much so that she has to make excuses as to why they had run out of groceries when her father had just bought more food yesterday.

At least it was better than my past life.

Suddenly, I hear the tumbler of their front door start to unlock. In a panic, I accidentally knock over the cereal bowl in my rush and scramble into her closet right as the door swings open. Oops. Burying myself under a pile of clothes, I hold my breath and listen carefully as someone's footsteps walk around the apartment. But they weren't light footsteps; they were heavy-booted ones, the ones that reminded me of the shoes my father used to walk around the house in.

That's strange. I can't remember the Albarns owning any boots at all. I guessed it was her stupid father who probably forgot something. Or it could be Maka, but I doubted it 'cause she'd rather gouge out her own eyeballs than miss a day at her precious academy.

The footsteps shuffle around, stop once in a while, then shuffle again. I hear them going up and down the hallway slowly. Then, my worst fears are confirmed. Right outside, the noise stops in front of Maka's door and it opens. It enters the room cautiously, and rustles around some papers on her desk; I'm sure this isn't Maka, 'cause if it was then she'd be calling my name already. Is it her father? I try to soundlessly peek out the crack without the risk of getting caught, tempted to call out Maka's name, but I hold it back. Instead, I continue to hold my breath and wait. The noise stops in the middle of the room. I waited. As slowly as they came, the thumps retreated back out into the hallway and through the house. I waited a little more. This time, they didn't come back. I sat there in the darkness until the steady rhythmic bang of the footsteps were out the door and could no longer be heard at all.

* * *

The next time I hear the key turn the lock of the entrance was when Maka walked in, to my relief. "Soul! I'm home!" She walks around the house for me. I notice that her footsteps were not the heavy and loud as the ones from before, so I knew it wasn't her. "Hey! Where are you...Soul! You made mess in the living room. You do realize you have to clean this up later!" Maka yelled angrily. "Seriously, where are you?!"

"It's nice to see you, too," I grin, looking up at her pissed-off face from the bottom of her closet with a pile of school-girl outfits on top of my head.

"What are you doing in here?"

"Did you or your father come back here earlier today?" I ask.

She quirks her eyebrow at me. "Are you kidding or something? Papa goes to work and I go to school. We would never come home after that."

"I'm serious."

"Why? What is it this time?" She sighs, rolling her emerald greens eyes to the ceiling and back down.

"There was someone who came in the house while you guys were gone."

"Who was it?"

"Dunno. That's why I'm asking you."

"I hope you're not trying to scare me."

"I'm serious!" I insist. "I stayed in her for the rest of the afternoon just in case he came back."

"Was it a robber?" She asks, seemingly interested now.

"Well, I didn't seem him take anything...but..." I thought, then realized that the intruder had been in her room and played with her papers. Maka jumps back in shock as I shot out of the closet and to her desk.

"Wha...what is it?"

I scanned my eyes all around the desk, making sure that everything was there. Her notebook. Check. Her pencil. Check. Her papers. Check. "Phew," I sigh. "I thought he actually took something. Though the pages looked like they've been flipped through a few times..."

"What are you talking about?! Who went into my room and went through my notes?" She demands.

"The person went into your room. I have no idea why, though. All he did was look at the notes here and then left."

"Lemme see," she says, nudging me out of the way to examine the damage. "Nothing was taken...all pages are present...my notes are still in order..."

"Weird, isn't it?" I smirk at Maka.

"That's so strange...why would he come in here just to look at my notes? Wait!" She screamed with her sudden idea. "The only one who knows where you are is Landau!"

"You don't think..."

"That he broke into our house in order to confirm that you weren't lying about being here?" She finishes for me. "Did he see you?"

"Wait a sec here. You're just making an assumption that he came here. What are the odds that it was him? What if it was some robber guy who came looking for some valuables, but didn't find any and left?"

"Let's check my dad's room to see if anything was taken!" Maka rushes out of the room with my trailing behind her. "Nothing..." she says dumbfounded at her discovery that this room wasn't touched at all. "Doesn't this confirm my suspicions?" She asks.

"Whatever, Maka. Whoever it was, they're gone now. I guess that's all that matters. Though I'm still nervous at the fact that they had a key." Sighing, Maka closed her eyes in exasperation and left the room with me. "Don't worry, I'll clean that mess up like you wanted me to," I say just to ease her nerves.

"Ugh...you do that. I'll be in my room if you need me. Papa comes home in a few hours, so don't get too lazy, okay?"

"Okay, _Mom,_" I say dryly, but Maka doesn't feel like putting up with my crap today. I guess I'll just leave her alone for the rest of the day.

* * *

"I did some more research on the doctor guy who researched with your family. There's a whole page about him here," she says softly as I take a seat on her bed, drying my wet hair from the shower. "He experimented with new drugs...did intensive studies on the human body...and nothing else."

"Why are you looking _him_ up, Maka? I told you already, he's a close family friend." He's just some jolly old dude." She mutters something about being guilty until proven innocent. "It's waste of time."

"And we're out of crucial information...I'm out of leads...this is not good at all. All the facts just keep winding up in the same place!" she says sadly while staring intensely at the computer screen. "It's like I haven't been doing anything..."

"Hey," I say gently and place my hand on her shoulders for comfort. "Don't be deterred by some stupid ol' words. I'm sure you get somethin' sooner or later 'cause you're so damn smart."

She whips around so quickly that it startle me, her eyes fiery with determination. "I know where to get more facts!"

"What?"

"Often times when someone is indicted and put in jail, they keep a record of their case and all the details. A lot of details."

My jaw drops. "You're seriously not thinking..."

"That we go back to that prison in order to extract the necessary information?"

"Stop stealing _my_ lines! And there's no way I'd ever go back to that craphole!"

"If we don't solve this case, you'll be going back to that 'craphole' anyways!" Maka got up to grab my shoulders. "Please? I really want to solve this case!"

"What's up with you lately?" My tone softens guiltily. "You've been working harder than usual. You don't even get enough sleep anymore, and you barely have time to do your homework. You don't even read like you used to for christ's sake!"

She looks down sadly and lets go of my shoulders. I could've sworn she was blushing, but ever so slightly. "Well...I just...I've never really had anything interesting happen in my life as interesting as this. And I'm really happy about it. I mean...for the first time I finally learned how to _stop_ counting everything and just...Oh! Never mind! You won't get it...just get ready for tomorrow!" Her frustrated face flushes a bright red, and she opens the closet door, ushering me inside. "I'm gonna be...researching. So don't bother me, okay?"

I had no idea what she was talking about. With a nonchalant shrug, I mutter something about her being a weirdo and go inside. "Goodnight to you, too." But I made sure that I didn't fall asleep right away. Leaving the door more slightly ajar than usual, I kept a watchful eye over her while she did her research, making sure that there was no creeper trying to get in her room or any robber entered the house. I promised I would stay alert for the whole night to make sure he didn't come back.

For her sake, of course. There was the strange feeling of duty I felt towards her. I mean, she's helping me, right? So why shouldn't I want to protect her? Oh, whatever. I'm never good with feelings.

I accept the fact that I had to go through the risk of getting caught again, just so Maka can get some of her "information" that she wants to badly and hoped that she succeeded. I believed in her abilities; she's pretty smart for an average girl, but I think that's been established already.

* * *

We stand in front of drearily grey prison building surrounded by high fences topped with barbed wire, and stare at the entrance which was guarded by officers. Nostalgia begins to flood my mind as I remember myself being here, confined within those walls, yelling at them that I wasn't guilty. I can see other prisoners, who were also my age, look longingly out of their small cell windows at the outside world and remember that it once was me in there. "Soul..." she whispers my name out breathlessly. "I'm sorry I yelled at you last night...but you don't have to come back here if you don't want to."

My uneasy look begins to fade into a wicked grin. "No way. This place might've shitted me over when I was here, but now it's time for some revenge. I know this place inside and out, so I'll know where to run to. The informational room on the first floor, but it's probably locked; you'll need specialized key to get in. I'll make sure that I go on the second floor, where all the inmates are placed, and I'll handle it from there." I take one more step forward, the pit of my stomach filling with a boiling rage. "I have a score to settle. You just find what you need to, okay?"

Maka gives me a strange look for suddenly being so determined, then understands. "Just don't get caught."

"Wouldn't dream of it," I say confidently. We look at each other one more time, and Maka takes my hand a grips it firmly.

"Where do I meet you after this?"

"Go home after this; you might be presently surprised."

"Got it. See you after then?"

"Yup." I make sure that I walk up to the guards slowly. They don't seem to realize that it's Soul Eater Evans at first, until I take my hood off and raise my hands up right in front of them. "Did you guys miss me?" I taunt with a low growl. They exchange nervous glances, then jump out of their boots. "Damn, you guys sure are slow," I say, taking off away with them on my tail shouting, "Come back her Soul Evans! You're under arrest!" Now I know the whole facility has been notified of my presence.

The bell lets out a shrill ring that pierced my ears. What happens next after you've alerted the whole entire police brigade?

All hell breaks loose.

* * *

**A/N: So...who do you think did it? Take your guess and leave a review!**

**~Silverbunni712**


	8. Prison Break, Part Two

Chapter 8: Prison Break, Part Two

I see the guards, wearing their grey drab uniforms, holsters filled with a gun cocked with bullets that were probably going to be used on this day. They left the entrance, chasing after Soul with their hands on their guns, and I took my chance. The disorienting and sharp cry of the alarm bell shattered the dull silence of the prison, and I watched as twenty six guards run out the door, screaming incoherently and barking orders at each other. I prayed silently that Soul would never be caught, and that he'd return to me, safe and sound.

Urging myself on when the officers had gone, I snuck (more like walked in casually, though) into the front door and looked around. At the front desk was an uptight looking woman with her dark brown hair tied in a neat bun, skimming through a book and concentrating on the page with her sharp eyes. "May I help you, young lady?" She snapped, with a glare that could slice through steel itself.

"Oh..." Maka stopped halfway to the corridor that Soul had told to go to. "I'm doing a research project on one of the inmates here. I want to take a look at the files for some extra information."

"Sorry, sweetheart," she said, tone filled with false endearment. "The file cabinet room is off limits to strangers. Go home and use the internet or something."

"Oh, please!" I beg. "I'm doing this project for someone special who really want to know this!" Just for a second, I glanced over to the book she was reading. 'How to Solve your Boyfriend Problems,' it read, and my head sprung an idea. "It's for my boyfriend," I add in quickly. "I really like him, and this'll be his birthday present."

She scoffs at me, almost slamming her book down on the desk. "I don't see why you're doing this for _him_," she said with disgust. "Men can be jerks sometime. The next thing you know, he's gonna say he doesn't love you anymore, and then they leave you out on the street like garbage."

"That's horrible!" I exclaim, hoping to win sympathy. "Don't tell me...is that what happened to you?"

"Pfft. And that's not even the half of it," she muttered.

"Really? Is that so? Could you tell me more?" I ask, even though it would mean listening to a two-hour rant about the story of her life. The woman stood up fiercely and walked over towards me. When I though she'd slap me, she instead put her hand on my shoulder and guided me away from her post, starting out carefully about how she had been an accountant in her past life.

I stared around the dreary grey painted hallway as she talked, passing the large and heavy rusted doors labeled with large print on the top: 'SOLITARY CONFINEMENT.' The long stretch of hallway ended with a plain old door, as opposed to all the heavy-duty locked doors rusted shut from old age, and I see the woman take out a key. I only half-listen to her words as we approach the door, preparing my mind for the oncoming flood of numbers and information that I would memorize. Wait...since when did I have to prepare myself to memorize anything? Memorization usually came easy to me...

I figured that my mind was too preoccupied with Soul than observing the world around me. The key turned in the lock and the woman opened the door. I peered inside as she reached for the light switch, and all I saw were vast aisles of file cabinets. "Here's what you're looking for, honey. The person you wanna find is in here somewhere."

Giving her a sincere glance, I thank her for everything and walk along rows upon rows of file cabinets that were both named and unnamed. They were all organized by last name first, and I knew that there was some way to easily find it. I glanced around, looking up and down for the word 'Evans' in the 'E' section. I wonder what Soul's real name is?

The word catches my eye, and I stop immediately, approaching the file cabinet with caution. It read in bold black ink, bolder than all the other labels:

**'EVANS, SETH'**

And under it read:

**'AKA SOUL EATER'**

I guess Soul was really Seth. I like Soul better, though. My hand gripped the handle apprehensively as I pulled the drawer out, revealing a folder with a large stack of papers inside. I slowly took out the papers one by one, scanning my eyes down each papers. Numbers. Names. Records.

All of it at once, filling my brain to the brink, nearly giving me a nasty headache. I stopped when it felt like to was about to burst and slammed the drawer shut, darting out of the room. "Aren't you gonna write anything down?" The lady calls, but I'm already out the door running home.

The information...I've obtained enough to last me a lifetime. I ran towards my apartment at exactly 5 miles per hour, which is pretty fast for a average teenage girl whose head is overflowing with numbers and names and so much information that she didn't know what to do with it. My feet flew effortlessly on the paved concrete streets of New York City, slamming into countless people as I passed and screaming my apologies at them.

Running right through the front door, I skid into my desk and immediately opened my computer with the numbers still fresh in my head. The gun's number. Soul's first address. Date of trial. Type of conviction: 1st Degree Murder. Sentenced to thirty years in prison. I imagined Soul rotting in a horrible place like that; sitting alone in his prison cell, his head cradled in his hands, his knees held up against his chest, begging about the severe injustice done to him...

I almost smacked myself on the head, forcing myself to forget about Soul and continue on working. Taking off my large glasses, I rubbed them on my tie and adjusted them back on. Telling myself that he would be alright kept me going. And even if he were to get caught, I would keep going to help him. I wouldn't stop until the world knew his story. Until that bastard who killed his family got what he deserved.

My eyes ran wildly across the computer screen and abosrbed everything. With every glance, I could feel myself getting closer to the real murderer. I couldn't wait to tell Soul what I've found today, he'd be so happy at my achievement. After I finished with my unstoppable search I sat back in my chair, my head dizzy from all the numbers and facts. I was so close to the real person; I could feel it as I write down all the newly acquired info.

Crucial things had been revealed today, but I don't want to spoil them until he gets back. Soul will come home, won't he? If I calculate my numbers correctly, and find the exact probability or make a proportion...no, that would not be able to do anything. My only hope now to wish and faithfully wait for his return.

* * *

I hear the front door open, and jolted awake from my nap, slapping the glasses on my face. "Soul!" I jump out of the room with open arms. To my dismay, the person who stood in the doorframe taking off his jacket was not the person I was looking for.

"Hello, Maka!" My dad greeted me with the strangest googly eyes and ran over to hug me. Instead of dodging the hug like I always do, I stant there while he glomps me, more concerned about other things than the fact that my dad has embraced me for the first time in 6 months and 3 days. "Did you say something about a soul?"

"I...uh, no. It's nothing..." I say sadly. After pulling myself free from his tight grip, I retreated back into my room to check the closet. There was no convict in my closet or smirking at me through the window pane, out on the fire escape. I sigh and sit back down on my bed, flopping my back against the covers and staring at the ceiling. My mind started to formulate horrible things: what if he was caught and put into prison? What if they were torturing him for escaping and this was his punishment? What would happen if they throw him into solitary confinement for a month just to see if he'd go crazy? Or worse...What if they shot him dead and were trying to figure out where they would bury his body?!

I cringed at my own thoughts. No, Soul was better than to get caught by the cops; he'd been doing that for months now. I believed in his abilities, and I believed that I would find him dozing off at the bottom of my closet like always.

And so I clung on to these thoughts. Even in my sleep, my dreams were filled with the thought of seeing him again. I wanted to imagine him here with me when everything was said and done, and the real murder was behind bars and he had his freedom to live anywhere he please. After all, he was the heir to his company and he'd get all the money, even Wes would be happy for him. We would walk through Central Park and over the bridge and stare at the ducks that resided in the pond. We could toss chunks of bread to them and watch as they'd paddle over and peck at the water.

I would laugh at their quacks, and Soul would chuckle with me, the afterwards we would set down a blanket and enjoy some homemade sandwiches. For some odd reason Soul makes really good tasting sandwiches in my dreams. We would laugh and talk about life until the sun set and the park got dark with only the street lights as our guide of light.

Then he'd say, "It's getting cold out," and wraps his arms around my shoulders to shield me from the evening chill around us. "We should be heading home." With his arm around me, I found that his body was warmer than usual and wanted more of it by snuggling closer. A small blush would creep up my face, and then it would come. It would come by a sudden urge of instinct, a sudden tug at the heart, and the realization that it was the right moment. The moment when we would both realize at the same time, and speak it without the need of the words _"kiss me._" That moment would be when, as I had observed in countless romantic movies, when the boy and the girl stop for a moment, thinking in their own thoughts, and then turning to each other to stare in each other's eyes. The audience as well as themselves would know exactly what they were thinking.

Even before the boy pulls the girl in closer for the kiss, we were well aware and anticipated the time for this kiss. Soul and I would experience the same thing. I stare into his intense crimson eyes, while he stares into mine, and we understand (though I don't know what he sees in my eyes). Then, he'd pull me in slowly for the kiss that I had been waiting for...

Before your lips could touch, my eyes open to the sound of knocks at the door. "Soul?" I say excitedly and rush over to the door, swinging it open. Once again to my disappointment, it was not Soul who was standing in my doorway, but my father with his moronic smile beaming at me. After swinging the door shut in his face, I go over and open the closet.

But he wasn't there either.

I double-check the fire escape next to my window, but Soul is not there either. I slump down on my bed hopelessly, ready to give up any hope that he would come back, and that he had either been shot dead or imprisoned. I throw my hands up in surrender and flop back sadly on the bed. Closing my eyes to numb my disappointment, I don't even bother preparing for school; I lay there brokenly, my eyes beginning to water.

That is, until I hear the familiar sound of quiet rapping sounds at my window, and look up to see his face, staring in at me with that intense red-eyed gaze and a giant idiotic smile across his face.

* * *

**A/N: Ugh, short and fluffeh slow-going chapter. Sorry for the delay, school is really a killer. Leave a review pwease?**

**~Silverbunni712**


	9. The Enemy of My Enemy is My Friend

Chapter 9: The Enemy of My Enemy is My Friend

I look back and shoot the guards a toothy smile, running through the halls of the prison and on my way to the second floor. I slam into the fire escape door with my shoulder and sprint up the zig-zagging stairs without hesitation, using the rails to swing myself around the corner. When I had opened the door, I pushed an unwitting guard standing right outside down and apologized as I passed. After I snatching the keys from his hands, of course. What? I ain't all bad. He fell backwards in shock at the sight of me, then immediately got up and realized what the hell was going on. But I was already running past the jail cells and to the courtyard, where all the prisoners were.

The open air of the prison, caged in by high fences and barbed wire, watched over by the toughest inmates that had claimed it as their own territory, held too many memories for me. Looking up in shock at their ex-inmate running down the guard rail and land in the palm of their concrete courtyard, they recognized me as the runaway who had managed to escape the cop's grasp. That I was running free while they rotted here. Angry looks are exchanged as the whole crowd silently gaped at me, their expressions darkening into something evil.

"Where've ya been, Eater?"

"So the Heartless Devil decided to come back to us!" They roared with malicious laughter and began to surround me, cracking their fists. The crowd, thick with brutally buff men who would love to do nothing else but crack my skull in, approached closer and circled me.

"Wait." I hold up my hands in surrender just before their with beefy hands can grab me. "How about if I told you that you can break outta here today? Right now," I say calmly and glance over to the entrance where the officers are chasing me and trying to push their way through the heavy barricade prisoners that stood between me and them.

One man walks out of the formation towards me. I remember his name to be Clay. "No way that's gonna happen, Eater. Don't you remember what happened last time we tried one of those little prison breaks of yours," he spat and pointed to a strike-mark of a scar going down the top of his cheek and down his firms jaw to the side of his neck. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing the muscular biceps behind them, and wound up his fist aimed right at my face. "I've been wanting to do this for a while now," he grins at the other prisoners, nodding with approval. "After five months of wasting away here, waiting for your stupid ass to bust us outta here like you promised...ya learn that it's not nice to break promises here." Another burly man grabs my arms from behind to make sure that I take what's getting to me.

Suddenly, there was a flash of blue hair, and sound of a shrill battle call. "YAH!" He screams as his fist rockets into Clay's cheek, sending him flying into the crowd of men. They let out a gasp as the boy lets out a triumphant laugh, and back up fearfully. He turns around to the guy holding me with a maniacal grin, who drops both my arms in a panic and retreats back into the group. "I thought I told you..." he snarls at them. "The only guy who gets to beat the shit outta this guy is me! GOT IT?!" He screamed.

"BlackStar," I echo his name. He turns to me and beams with a friendly smile, even though he was a full head shorter than me. "Long time no see."

"Heh, same to you, Soul." BlackStar looks daringly at the men. The orders of the prison guards are not far behind me now, managing to push their way through the mass.

* * *

It only seemed like yesterday when BlackStar and I had first met - when I had been shoved in the same cage as he was, and he had been determined to prove himself as the dominant one by nailing me across the chest with a stone-hard punch when I had chosen to ignore his annoying demands. "Rule number one!" he had shouted, standing above me while I writhed with pain on the cell floor. "NEVER insult your new god!"

Soon enough, we had come to terms as the days past, and I learned to tune him out whenever he ranted about his high and mighty greatness, often times lying down on the bottom bunk and staring at the metal ceiling. "So," I had suddenly interrupted him in the middle of a speech. "What are you in for?"

"I was a petty thief ever since I was young," he plopped down on the floor next to me with his legs crossed. "And...I was good at it too! One of the best assassins you could ever find!"

"Did you ever kill anyone, though?" I asked.

"I never really meant to kill the guy...he was just in the way and he had a gun." His pride seemed to simmer down as he went on about how he had grabbed the gun out of instinct and pulled the trigger, but never had realized that he killed the man until he was arrested and dragged off to prison. "How was I supposed to know that the bullet was gonna kill him? I mean, I was in the middle of a robbery. I just wanted him to get outta the way, but the dude didn't move," he finished. Though his story barely made sense, I had accepted it. "What about you?"

"I...I was convicted of murdering my parents. But I never actually did it," I said.

"Woah..." he exclaimed. "That's some hardcore stuff man..." Then I heard it; the inevitable sound of silence. And on that day I had figured out that it was _BlackStar himself_ who had come to fear me for what I was imprisoned for, instead of me fearing him.

"I prefer if we didn't talk about it," I told him. But I secretly knew that my reputation would be the only thing that kept me alive - the fact that I was known as a hardened criminal who had coldly shot his own parents in the head scared off the other men, even though only one of them was needed if I ever wanted for my head to be crushed in. Inside, I was cold and empty; that was the act I needed to put up in order to survive in prison, or else I would be a goner.

* * *

Our first stab at freedom didn't last very long. A small group of men had been assembled under my plans, and we sent the whole courtyard into a riot so we could open up an escape through all the racket. But it failed miserably; it ended up with all of us being sent into solitary confinement for a few weeks. I was fine with the punishment, though, because I was so accustomed to loneliness that I didn't even feel any when it was there. However, my fellow mates did not find it as swell. It was the one plan that ended up giving Clay that nasty eye-catching scar, and he blamed me for it and swore revenge, that is, until he had learned that I escaped anyways while being transferred to another prison. "Wanna take another shot at it?" BlackStar grins at me, looking around the crowd of men still glaring at us.

"STOP! SOUL EATER EVANS, FREEZE WHERE YOU ARE!" The pathetically slow guards shout from inside the wall. "STEP ASIDE, ALL OF YOU!" But the group refused to part for them.

"LISTEN UP!" BlackStar yells at all the men. "IT'S TIME FOR A PRISON BREAK!" He finishes, and the whole place goes into a frenzy, punching and grabbing the officers caught in the fray. I feel him tug the collar of my shirt and yanking me out of the fighting and yelling and bashing.

We run through the gunshots of the officers from above, trying to calm everyone down, but he and I knew it would not work. The same door that we had escaped through was wide open, just as it had been five months ago. Ramming past the doors an opened jail cells, I pulled the level that opened all of the cell doors, so everyone could join in on the party. Outside grew even more hectic, just like I had planned. I hoped Maka was done by now.

"Almost there," I huff. We round the corner which led all the way down to the fire escape - the perfect place that I decided would make a clean getaway. "There's no way they'll catch up to us now."

The fire alarm rang out across the building and the showers from above released its water. Now every one was panicked, violent, and wet, just like it was five months ago. Except we won't make the same mistake. Down the hill and into the clearing of an abandoned parking lot that borderlines the city outskirts, we ran, eventually planning to split up as we ran and lose them in the city streets. "We finally made it..." BlackStar and I stopped to catch our breaths on the sidewalk entrance of the endless city blocks. I peered up into the sky, realizing that it was already dark. "Well," I say, interrupting our sweet silence. "I think this is where we split, and go into different parts of the city now."

"Hmph," BlackStar grins. "I never though this would actually work. I mean, the police are definitely gonna be after us in the morning, so I hope I find a place to stay." I highly doubted that Maka could take in another criminal, especially one who actually commit a murder. He stood up pridefully. "I guess this is it." He offered an outstretched hand to me. I took it and smirk, as he heartily shook my hand and almost took my arm with him. "Freedom's gonna taste soooo good!" He laughed.

"Yeah," I say. "Just make sure you don't get caught."

* * *

I somehow wander my way into Maka's neighborhood, and I could tell from the tall skyscrapers that towered her building, seemingly squishing it in between two large pillars. I sneak my way up to her room like I had done many times before - by climbing up the treacherously slim ladder of the fire escape. Finally making it up to her room, I peer into the window and find her sleeping, sprawled out on the bed as usual, her glasses slipping off her face and still in her school girl uniform. I sigh with relief and quietly slide open her unlocked window, allowing myself to slip into her room soundlessly. My stomach let out a low and long growl just as I was about to close my eyes and come to the horrible realization that I was hungry.

I didn't think now was the greatest time for midnight snacking especially since her father was snoring only one room away from the kitchen. With no other idea in my head or anything in my belly, I head back out the window in search of something to eat, and don't return until the morning, too busy hanging around the McDonalds and too exhausted to get back up.

When I had crawled back up I looked in again and found Maka, teary-eyed and clenching the bed sheets tightly on the edge of her seat. I tap on the window and mischievously shoot her one of my famous grins, and her green eyes light up with excitement at the sight of me. I open the window and duck inside. "I told you I'd come back -" She never gave me time to finish my sentence, because as soon as my feet landed on her carpet she grabbed me and gave me hug - a genuine hug, one that we didn't have to pretend to give to get the police off of our asses. I felt her head rest on my shoulder, her arms wrapping tightly around my back.

I stood there and let her embrace me, slightly shocked. "I was so worried! Why did you take so long? I thought they shot you! You know I wasn't able to any research without you around!"

"Woah, woah. Calm down," I assure her, eventually learning to hug her back. "I'm fine. Did you get what you needed to get?" She lets go of me.

"Yes, I did! The numbers have been retained in my head...but I couldn't do anything while you were gone. I just couldn't; I'm sorry..." She mumbles sadly.

"As long as you have what you need, then that's good, right?" I sigh and she nods. "Geez, I didn't get any sleep last night...I'm freakin' tired. If you want me, I'll be sleeping all day."

"That's good! I'll be in school, then." Maka ran to her bathroom to get ready and change, while I collapsed in the closet and quickly drifted off to sleep. I wondered when I would ever sleep in an actual bed, not the floor of someone's cabinet. I wondered what Maka's findings had in store for me. She had claimed to be getting closer and closer, no longer asking the same questions that she used to ask to everyone.

I was relieved that after all this time, we had finally gotten somewhere that even the investigators couldn't get to.

I only hoped that we had gone in the right direction; after all, I had risked almost getting my face pounded in or getting a bullet lodged up my ass yesterday. My mind went blank before I could think about it anymore, and I finally drift off into sleep, listening to Maka whisper her goodbye to me, and softly closing the closet door.

* * *

**A/N: Here you go, people. More fluff. Though I doubt that's a good thing, but don't worry, this is where stuff gets serious. **

**Leave a review, please?**

**Silverbunni712**


	10. The Smoking Gun

Chapter 10: The Smoking Gun

I could not count anymore. No more numbers could stick in my head, no more information that I could cram, no more exact measurements that I could involuntarily calculate. The school clock began to tick slower as I sit, staring at a blank test in front of me, nervously tapping my pencil against the mahogany desktop. "Time's almost up!" Miss Marie tells the class. My hands refuse to write anything. "Five more minutes!" I close my eyes to concentrate on something else, something that was considerably much more important that school itself. "Time's up! Hand in your tests!"

"Maka," someone taps my tense shoulder gently. "Are you…okay?" I turn my head and see Tsubaki's concerned ocean-eyed gaze on me.

I offer her a weak smile and try to hide my headache. "I'm fine, thank you."

I pass up my completely blank test and excuse myself to the bathroom, to the quiet stalls and shiny white tiles and porcelain sinks to get some peace of mind. I only hear my footsteps squeaking furiously against the smooth school hallways, then I slam into the girls' bathroom. All the numbers from over the years are seemingly flooding back to me, clogging up my brain and blocking everything else. I couldn't figure out what was happening until I realized that everything – all the information and numbers and facts – were not coming from my memories at all, but from the case itself. Running the sink water, I take a handful and splash it on my face, feeling the cold run down my flushed cheeks to my chin.

I peer into the mirror, staring at my own strange reflection and lost in my thoughts, until I hear the door swing open. I turn and see a worried Tsubaki come to my aid. "What's going on, Maka? You haven't been yourself lately, and it's really worrying."

"Oh," I put on a false smile again. "It's nothing. Really, I just think I might be sick, that's all." She walks towards me, her concerned expression still not wavering at my excuse.

"Is there something you want to talk about?" A soothing hand meets my shoulder.

I sigh and twiddle with my glasses. "It's complicated," I say.

"I'll listen."

I gather over my thoughts for a moment, contemplating on whether I should tell her, whether I could trust her with a secret as gargantuan as mine: that I was housing a wanted criminal and trying to help him prove he's not guilty. Any person would look at me like I'm crazy. But there was no one else around, and I had known her for years. So I caved into my emotions and told her.

"I have...problem." A change of heart happens before the words can slip out of my mouth.

"What is it about?"

"I have a school project...and I'm trying to do some research but I'm stuck on something. Hypothetically speaking, if I were solving a crime and I have a gun's serial number, what kind of information could it possibly get me?"

"Well, you could find its owner using an online database," she says and my brains starts to reel once again, running over the prison folder info in little flashes of pictures. "But why would you ask such a question?"

"I, uh, it's just that I have a school project and I'm pretending to solve a case."

"That sounds...nice," I can barely hear her words over my own thoughts as she rambles on about her own classes and projects. I almost feel guilty for not listening to her when she had chosen to offer to listen to me. "...and then I handed it in, right before it was due!" I only hear her last words.

"It's owner..." I mutter and I finally have an idea. "That's it, Tsubaki! I've solved it!" I scream, thanking her as I run out of the bathroom and out the school straight home, determination flaring up inside me.

I dash into the living room, calling his name and flinging my messy backpack onto the couch. Strangely, I am greeted by only silence. "Soul?" I investigate around the house and make my way into my room cautiously. But nothing could prepare me for the sight that I would see upon entering.

"Maka..." he murmurs weakly, his body sprawled out on my bedroom floor, his arms extended as if he was clawing his way across the carpet from the closet and leaving a streak of red in his path. His own blood.

A gasp escapes my mouth and I run to him, dropping down on my knees and next to his fallen body with horror in my eyes. "What happened?! Who did this?! Soul! Wake up! Please!" I cry, my panicked eyes examining pants caked with dried blood.

He groaned as his crimson eyes shot open from the sound of his name. He muttered something about being shot by 'those damn cops.' I half-listen to his story and then I'm out the door, rummaging through our medicine cabinet for anything to stop the bleeding. "How could you have not noticed that you were shot until now?!" I ask as I gently turn his body upwards to face me. Looking for the open wound on his body, I spot a small, red hole small than my thumb all the way at the top of his pants near the upper-half of his leg. His hands were covered in the red liquid; he had been trying to stop the bleeding with his bare hands, but with no success.

"I think...while I was running I must've been shot by a stray bullet. But I was probably too tired to notice," he let out an idiotic weak chuckle.

My eyes scan his body up and down, finding that there were no other marks on him. "Thankfully the bleeding is not heavy, and it's only a flesh wound."

"Yeah, but it still hurts like hell." He tried to lift himself up and makes it to the edge of my bed, leaning his back wearily on the sheets. "Dammit."

My eyes are still trained on his bloody leg. "Soul, I really need to see the damage. It might be fatal. You might have to take off your pants for me to see it and fix it. I need to seal it up before you get an infection or worse... you bleed to death." With a small mutter of protest, he allows me to help him unbuckle his belt and pull down his tainted red pants, revealing my father's borrowed boxers underneath and the source of his injury: bullet hole in the top right side his leg, almost near his waist, no larger than the width of 1.3 centimeters, which, by the way, is very small. I try not to look, and turn my attention instead to a small gauze that I dip in rubbing alcohol. "This is gonna sting a little..." I murmur, approaching as he spots the gauze with his unsteady gaze on the little white cloth.

He squirms slightly. "Wait...Maka, before you do that...is it gonna - GAH!" I apply the gauze to the small hole, cleaning away any blood that was still seeping out. "OW!" He yelps, seemingly coming back from his tired state thanks to the pain.

"Sorry," I say while I dab it. "But I have to clean it or else!"

"_Fuck, Maka_," he hisses in agony, biting his lips to prevent a cry of pain from leaving his throat. "It fuckin' hurts!" He clenches the bed sheets tightly in his fists, squeezing for dear life as I continue to carefully rub away all of the blood.

"Sorry!" I say, wincing at his grunts. "Here, hold still." My careful and tender hands wrap the bandage around his leg, covering up the wound that was still slightly bleeding. I could feel his tensed up body begin to relax and he sighs and his shoulders drop and fists unclench their grip on my bloodstained sheets, then I wipe the dried blood down his leg.

"Ugh," he mutters, his eyes only half-open. "Damn...it hurts...aspirin, I need some aspirin or somethin'."

He guzzles the small pills down while I help him settle down on my bed. "Are you okay now?" I ask nervously.

"I'm fine now, thanks," he sighs, staring intensely at the bandaged leg. "It'll take more than any bullet to bring ol' Soul Eater down," his face contorts into his signature smirk, and I sigh with relief.

"That's good to hear," I chuckle. "But how did you _not _know you were shot until now? It's strange how you made it here so far when you had a hole in your leg."

He leans back on the pillow and thinks, his eyes closing as if he were digging in his mind to remember, but he only shrugs. "I dunno. When I woke up this morning I was bleeding a lot, and that's all I remember. I tried to make it to your phone to call your cell, but I was too tired to make it, and I just collapsed on the floor like that."

"How...strange. I mean, if anyone were shot they would feel pain immediately. But you..."

"Maybe I'm some sorta mutant alien."

"No! That's not what I'm thinking, but certainly it's weird," I say, my suspicions rising.

"Whatever, Maka. I wouldn't worry about it; my leg will heal soon enough, I guess."

"How can you be relaxed at a time like this?! You've got a bullet hole in your leg! You're lucky I even came home or else you'd be dead right now!" I say angrily.

"Worrying about it won't make it heal any faster. And why would you come home this early anyways?"

My gaze softens, and I realize that I had nearly forgotten what I had skipped my ever-so-important school for: to finally gain the piece of data that had been missing in my puzzle of murder; the gun's owner - just a simple name that could blow this case wide open. Why was it so important? When the gun was found, it was deemed as the murder weapon, however, no records were shown of the Evan's ever buying a gun and even Soul admitted that his family never had one. That brought up much suspicion in the investigators' case, but they never looked into it as it had seemed that Soul obviously committed the murders. But I was about to prove them wrong. "I came home to finally solve you case," I say firmly and proudly.

"No kidding; isn't that what you've been trying to do for a few weeks now?" He asks dryly.

"I mean for real this time! Once we find the real owner of that gun we could figure out who framed you! Don't you find it strange that a gun that you never owned was used to kill your parents?"

"Well, apparently, no one else did. In fact, no one else gave a damn about whether or not it was me or not," he laughed sourly. "Because I looked guilty as hell, too. They didn't care."

"Surely someone could've tried to help you."

"Do you actually think that people cared about me? I was nothing to them, Maka!" He says, his voice starting to rise. "After my careless parents died and left their two kids behind, no one bothered to help us!"_  
_

"But what about Landau?"

He laughed again. "The doctor guy? All he did was hired an expensive lawyer who didn't do shit and left me out to dry!"

"But -"

"The world stopped listening to me; as long as I looked guilty and everything was pointed at me, no one cared!"

"But _I _care!" I finally blurt out, drawing back in surprise at my own words. "I care." I calm down my tone, a hot feeling beginning to creep up my face. "I really do," I repeat slowly.

He only offers me a strange look. "I never knew you were that serious when you said you'd help me," he says blankly, not knowing what to think.

"I told you I'd be able to solve any mystery," I offer a smile and his almost affectionate gaze meets mine.

"Hmph. It seems that you're smarter than I thought," he chuckled, wincing slightly as he laid back into the pillow. "Actually, when you first told me that you'd help me, I didn't believe you."

"Do you believe me now?" I ask, leaning towards him closer, determined to get a satisfying answer.

"The faster you solve this murder, the faster I'll believe you."

"Come on, Soul! It's nice to have to have _some _support here!"

"Aren't you supposed to be working or something?"

I sigh. "Just you wait; I'll find this guy for you. But, what will you do if we find out who he, or she, is? How are you going to go about arresting them?"

Soul paused to glance up at my ceiling. "Arrest them? I was thinking of much worse."

"You mean you're planning on killing the murderer?!"

"Who wouldn't want revenge on someone who shot their parents and purposefully framed them, Maka?"

"You'd be just like them! I'm not doing this so you could turn into an actual murderer! I did this so you could have some closure!"

"What would you do, then?" He asks, his tone rising again.

"Why don't we have them arrested instead?! It's a much better answer than violence!" Soul sighs and covers his eyes with his arm.

"And why shouldn't I want violence, Maka?! This person ruined my life, sent me off to jail, killed my parents, and destroyed my relationship with my brother and I! Why shouldn't I want revenge?!"

"Because you'd end up right like him!" I scream furiously at him. "If that's the case, and you think that way, then there's no way I'll help you find the real killer!"

"What's wrong with you! You were so willing to help me just moments ago!"

"All this time I've been trying to prevent you from becoming what you say that you're not! A cold blooded killer! I thought...I thought you were not like them!"

"I'm _not _them! I just want the same thing done to him as it was done to me! This is my closure! Revenge! And if you're not willing to help me, then maybe I should just leave!"

"Go ahead and leave! But you won't get far with that leg!" I storm out of my room, slamming the bathroom door behind me, tears pouring down my face and onto my sleeves that were constantly rubbing against my eyes. Feeling betrayed and angry, I slumped down to the floor with my back against the door and holding back sobs.

"Wait! Ma-Augh!" I hear a bang as I imagine him trying to get up off the bed to run after me, but his leg gives out and he falls to the ground. "Maka!"

But it was too late; the Soul Eater Evans that I had already come to know was gone now, replaced by a cold, empty killer who was filled with revenge.

* * *

**A/N: I hope this is serious enough for now lol. Anyways, please leave a review! Feedback is an author's best friend, or so I hope!**

**SilverBunni712**


	11. A Simple Warning

Chapter 11: A Simple Warning

I had a right for revenge; it was _me_ who had to suffer in prison, _me_ who had to nearly get myself killed for the sake of freedom, and _me_ whose life was ruined thanks to the person who wanted _their_ revenge on my parents. It was _me_ who had to pay the price. Why shouldn't I want to repay the favor? "You'd be just like them!" She screamed, her olive-green eyes narrowing at me like daggers. It was kind of ironic; how I've claimed that I wasn't a killer from the beginning, only to become one in the end. But who could blame me? Sometimes _revenge_ is the only way to fulfill yourself.

Maka had no right to judge me; if she never went through the things I'd went through, or went through the pain that I had to endure, then she couldn't _possibly_ understand what goes on in my mind! But I ran after her anyways, and secretly knew she was right. "Ma-augh!" I yell, swinging my legs off the side her her bed to get off, but crumpling back down on the floor, searing pain shooting up my leg. "Maka!" I call again, but she's already locked herself in the bathroom. I could hear her sobs as I limp my way towards her slammed door.

"Go away, Soul! I thought you said you were gonna leave anyways!" She cries angrily.

Finally, I make my way to her bathroom and collapse to my knees in front of the door, steadying myself against it. "Maka, open the door, please," I beg, pressing my hands against its wooden frame guiltily.

"Why should I?" She retorts, her tone still harsh. "So you could come in and kill me too?!" The hurt in my chest grew more painful than the bullet hole in my leg.

"No! Maka, I just - ugh, just open the door!" I plead.

"No! Just leave already!"

I sigh, absent-mindedly resting my forehead on the door. I knew I screwed up. And why in the hell would I apologize? "Can't we just talk or something?"

"Why would we need to talk about anything?! It's too late for anything now, Soul," Maka said grimly. "It's over."

It's not like I wanted to change my mind, but I certainly wasn't someone who was seething with hatred, where forgiveness was never the answer. I could change. I could change for her. "Maka, at least listen to me. Then, maybe I'll go."

The response is silence. I leaned my ear against the door, only hearing a sniffle and the tiny hinges of her glasses squeaking. "Soul," her voice suddenly penetrates the quiet. "I know you're not a bad person...I know you're not like those other men who commit murders...so why? Why would you sink to their level?"

"You know, it ain't as hard as you think, to be like them. I've been around people like them long enough, so it's not hard to think like them too." Ever since I entered that correction center, I knew I was corrupted by them. My regular self had faded away, covered by the personality that I had to pretend to be. Because I had to convince myself that I was a killer in order to survive.

"But you're not," she says quietly. "I know you're not like them at all, because I know who the _real_ Soul Eater is. It's not your fault either, that you became who you were."

My leg throbs while I gently settle down, back against the door, cradling my not injured knee to my chest.

"I don't want to lose the Soul I know," she whispers. "Because...I think I've really come to like him..."

I listen to her sniffle once more. I could change - no, I _would_ change for her. "I think I've really come to like you too," I murmur, but not loud enough for her to hear.

"He may be lazy." As if I didn't know that already. "And an idiot." Now she's just pushing it. "But he's still the Soul I know."

After I finally find the courage to speak up, I mutter, "I know you said revenge is not and answer. But it's not like I'm ever gonna forgive him."

"I never said you had to," she says. "I just didn't want you to become a monster - the very thing that you've been wanting to avoid. You don't have to hurt him to be satisfied."

"Then I won't become a monster then," I decide. "I'll just be the regular old Soul that you know."

"Promise that you won't seek your revenge the violent way," she begged softly.

"Okay, okay. I promise I won't," I sigh. "But I ain't no push-over." I could change, but I didn't relish the idea of Soul Eater Evans becoming a pussy. "And...I'm sorry," I mumble a pathetic apology under my breath. "Now can you open the door?"

The door slowly creaks open ajar, flooding the hallway with light. "I'm sorry, too. I don't really want you to leave, Soul," she said firmly, her voice slightly muffled from out of the small crack in the doorway, her glasses clouded by her own tears.

"As if I'd just leave like this," I smirk, slowly using the wall to guide me to my feet without the risk of falling. I had forgotten that I had a hole in my leg, and the pain surged back all at once. "But can I at least land a nice hard punch in his balls?"

"Soul!" She whines from behind the door.

"Alright, fine," I say as she warily begins to open the door. "I'll just kick him there, then!"

* * *

If there's one thing that you'd know about Maka while not even getting to know her properly, it's that she bounces back very easily. After our short and quick "sorry's" and a little help from her to get back to the room and on the bed, she was already on her computer, green eyes planted on the screen, muttering to herself incessantly. I watched her as I lay my head on the propped pillow, knowing not to say anything because even though we had made up with our little fight, the atmosphere was still fragile; even one wrong statement could set off a bomb. So I close my eyes to rest, despite the time being only 2:10 in the afternoon. "Strange..." her voice finally rises above a whisper and I wasn't sure if she was addressing me or herself.

"What is it?" I ask, snapping her out of her nerd-induced trance.

Maka shoots up in her chair. "This gun doesn't belong to your family; it belonged to the doctor - Landau. Did he ever drop off the gun there or leave it there or lend it to you?"

My usual answer: "I have no idea; he came and went as he pleased. I doubt he'd ever leave or even bring his gun to our house."

"Well, according to the gun's ID number, it was bought by Dr. Landau, and by the way, did you know that he had a son that's our age?"

"The old guy had a son? Since when did he suddenly get a wife and kid? 'Cause last time I remember, he's a grandpa."

"Actually, it's step-son, who was never interrogated or checked on during the murder. But now, we can be sure that he's our new suspect," she smiles, confidence filling her tone again. "Why don't we give Landau a call again?" I gulp. "Soul, we need answers now."

She hands me the phone and I stare at it, the pit of my stomach beginning to churn. I never had like the man; there had always been something..._off _about him. From the way he greeted us to the way he ruffled my hair playfully had aways seemed strange. Maybe he was just a weirdo naturally. But as soon as he'd leave the large room in which my parents and him would discuss, his personality would change suddenly - he would not have that large smile across his face when he first entered, the wrinkles on his face would be darkened, and his brows furrowed - leaving Wes and I to wonder why. He would slowly pack his briefcase with a distantly blank stare, then solemnly walk towards and out the door. We wouldn't see him until the next day.

My twitchy fingers dialed the numbers apprehensively, and I drew in my breath as it rung. Suddenly there is a click and I almost lose it. "Hello? Dr. Landau's office," a voice answers, but it isn't the familiar gruff voice of the old man's. It was instead the voice of a young man, whose tone sounded stiff and unwelcoming. As if he'd rather be somewhere else right now rather than picking up the phone and putting on a false act of politeness, and I get the slightest feeling that he so happens to be Landau's son. "Hello? Who am I speaking to?"

Maka and I exchange glances before she answers. "Hi, at this time, where is Dr. Landau?"

The boy pauses. "Dr. Landau is busy at the moment and cannot take your call. If you want to reschedule an appointment or call at another time -"

"We can't wait now," I cut, alluding to more important matters. "This is really important. I need to talk to him."

On the other line, I hear him huff impatiently at my rudeness. "I'm sorry, but he is not able to speak with anyone right now, but if you want to call later, I'm sure that -"

"Who are we speaking to?" This time it was Maka who interrupts.

"This is the doctor's son, Kidd," he says curtly and Maka and I exchange glances again. S_uspect,_ she mouthes to me.

"If that's the case, then may we ask you some questions, regarding the murder of the Evans family?" She asks.

Kidd hesitates to answer us. "Why would you want to ask about that?"

"Because I find this case to be extremely important to me," Maka says firmly. "Did you know that the murder weapon - the .48 caliber pistol - belong to your father?"

"_Step-_father," he corrects indignantly. "And no, that is impossible; he had never told me that we ever owned a gun. Why and how do you know this?" He tone deepens._  
_

"Because we want to know the truth," I say. "We want to know who really killed the parents."

I can imagine Kidd, his face darkening from our determination to find the real murderer that could possibly be him. "...And why would you think that me or my father did it? Wasn't it their own son who shot them?"

"I don't think it was their son; I think he was framed by someone," Maka says.

"You jumped to this conclusion how...?"

"We have a feeling that the real killer could be someone who is close to the Evan's family; someone who knew them personally."

Then, something unexpected happens. His voice lowers down into a hushed whisper, as if there was someone else in the room with him listening to our conversation. "Listen," he growls softly. "My step-father, though he may be old, is a brilliant man. He is extremely intelligent. Maybe even cunning. If I were you, I think it'd be safe not to pry. I would just stay away, or else you might regret it. If I were you, I would just forget about solving this case or anything, and not call here anymore with questions. If you want to be safe, then you should heed my warning." And then the monotonous tone of a hung-up phone. We sat there in silence, mulling over Kidd's ominous words, not knowing what to say or think.

* * *

I turn the knob slowly, letting the steaming hot water run down my hair and down my body. I watch the dried blood peel off my leg and spiral down the drain, massaging the shampoo deep into my scalp, grunting as I shift on my other leg. Maka sat outside of the shower stall on her stool and buried in her own thoughts. "Are you okay in there?" She asks suddenly. I answer yes.

She had said it'd be wise to shower before her father came home, because we both knew and agreed that it wouldn't be good if anyone came home to find a convict in their shower washing the soap off his ass. I peak my head out of the curtain and look at Maka, her eyes clouded with thought and her brow furrowed in frustration. "Pass me the soap?" I ask and she quirks her brow at me for the sudden interruption.

"What do you think Kidd meant by that?" She asks, handing me the bar of Dove. "Could it mean that he's the murderer? I mean, it was all very suspicious and everything."

"Yeah, that was pretty sketchy of him to say that. He didn't want us to pry, though," I say, running the soapsuds around my chest.

"Obviously, that raises some serious suspicion! I think we're closer than ever!" She says excitedly.

"Or maybe he was trying to warn us against Landau. Dunno why, though."

"There's no way I'm gonna be scared of his words! We've come too far to lose everything," Maka answers with a tone filled with fiery determination. I'm relieved; I haven't heard her this happy since we fought.

With the soothing warmth of the shower water beating down on my back, my muscles relax as I rub out the rest of the shampoo from my bleach-white hair. "Wonderful, now it's only a little more until I'm a free man -" But just when I was sure that everything was fine, pain suddenly surged back into my body and I felt the wound sting and my legs wobble and finally give out. "Ack!" I grit my teeth as I fall on my ass to the bath floor.

Pathetic.

I hear Maka jump up from her seat. "S-Soul! Are you okay?!"

"Damn..." I try to raise myself back up, my legs were jelly at this point and could not support anything. "Yeah, I just fell. It's no big deal -"

"Do you need help?!"

"Well, I think I can manage -"

"Hold on! I'm coming!"

"Wait, Maka! I'm na -" The shower curtain is flung open as I lay on the shower floor, bare-ass naked and uncensored. "Idiot!" I yell as I look up at her, the eyes on her panicked face squeezed shut and reaching down for my hand even though the water was still running. "Just open you eyes, Maka!"

"Don't worry, just grab my hand!" She says as her glasses threaten to slip of her face.

"You're gonna fall like that!" I shout, grabbing the shower curtain and ripping it off the rack and over my manly parts. "Open your eyes, dammit!" The next thing I hear is her boots squeaking, loosing their footing on the wet slippery ground, and her squealing as she lands right on top of my stomach, the shower water beating down on her yellow sweater vest. I hold back a grin as she opens her furious emerald eyes, making sure that she didn't land on anything important, her pigtails and glasses drenched along with the rest of her top. "I told you to open your eyes," I release the smirk as she elbows my softly in the stomach, trying to steady herself upwards.

"Shut up, I was trying to help!" She glowers through her soaking ashy blonde bangs that draped over her eyes and glasses. "Now," she rose up off me. "Now take my hand." I reach for her outstretched and wet hand as she pulls me off the bathtub floor with the curtains still held against my privates. She hands me a towel.

"I don't suppose you'd like to take a bath now, would you?" I ask, grinning at her annoyed glare and dripping wet clothes that had formed a puddle around her sneakers.

"At least I helped you!" She snarls, wringing her pigtails out and water leaked out. "I could've just left you there, you know."

"But you didn't," I say, reaching for a dry towel on the rack and playfully throwing it on her head. "Thanks."

Her glare softens as she looks up with the towel dangling from her head. "You're welcome," she mutters and turns her gaze down to the floor. I wrap the towel firmly around my waist and go over to her wet and pouty face, and dry it for her. "What are you doing?" She demands as I gently rub the towel across her cheeks. "I can do it myself, you know!"

"Don't be so pissy, Maka," I say, wiping away all of the water while she crosses her arms. "I'm just repaying the favor. For earlier." I take the glasses off and rub away the drops.

"Well," I could've sworn a slight blush streaks across her face. "Thank you."

I smirk with satisfaction. "You're welcome."

* * *

**A/N: So...who done it? Leave a review and your guess! Feedback is an author's best friend!**

**SilverBunni712**


	12. An Apple a Day

Chapter 12: An Apple a Day...

"You can stop now, Soul. I'm dry," I insist as he continues to rub the towel on my head slowly, intentionally trying to piss me off.

"Hold on, I think I missed a spot," he grins playfully, ignoring my protests until I swat his hands away and wrap the towel around the back of my neck. "Aww, don't be so sore just 'cause you took a little accidental shower," he teases, observing my pout.

When I'm done sourly squeezing the water out of my yellow sweater vest, I take the shower head and spray him with it just to get even. "Pfft," he sputters out water, still wearing that ridiculous smirk on his face. "Satisfied yet? Or do you wanna wet the whole entire bathroom?" He motions to the floor which was now covered in a puddle of water.

"Wait," I say, irritated. "I think I missed a spot." He laughs as I soak him from head to toe in with the hose, his red-eyed gaze hidden by matted down wet white hair.

"Alright, I get it, Maka." Soul brushes his bangs from his face.

"Good," I say. "Now, you just go to my room and I'll have to clean up -" The lock to the front door begins to turn, and click open. "St-Stay down!" I hiss at a panicked Soul, who dives into the bathtub while I slip out of the bathroom to meet the person at the door, presumably Papa.

"Ah, Maka!" He greets me with a tired smile and takes off his coat. "...why are you so wet?"

"Oh! Um...Hi Papa!" I say nervously, my wet back pressing against the closed door. "I was just...you know... taking a shower."

"With your clothes on?" He asks quizzically.

"Oh! Yeah, I, uh, I fell. I accidentally fell in the shower with my clothes on," I stammer out.

"Are you okay?" He takes a concerned step towards me, and I scrunch up defensively against the door, protecting it with my life.

"I'm fine!" I blurt out. "No, really! I'm just fine! You don't have to worry," I say.

"Let me see if you're hurt or something," he urges and approaches closer.

"Seriously, Papa! I'm okay!"

"Okay, okay! I won't touch!" He jokes. "I just want to tell you that Papa's gonna go on a business trip tonight for the next two days, so you're gonna be alone, okay?"

"That's...perfect," I sigh with relief.

"I'll be leaving tomorrow morning, so if there's anything - like food or something - then we can go out to the supermarket tonight -"

"It's okay, Papa, I think I'll last."

"And if-if you ever get cold, then you can always turn the heater on whenever you need -"

"Okay, dad, I get it."

"Make sure you do your homework, brush your teeth twice a day, remember to -"

"Papa!"

He laughs and gives my hair a playful ruffle. "Alright, I was just making sure. My wittle Maka is growing up so fast!" Papa starts to make his way to his bedroom, but first kisses me on my forehead softly. "If you need me I'll be packing up. I'll probably be gone by tomorrow morning. Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night, Papa," I say softly as the room to his door closes shut, and I rub the moist spot where his lips had gone and sneak back into the bathroom. "Soul," I find him laying flat against the tub floor, cloaked in towels and the shower curtain.

"Is he gone?" His head perks up from the covers and his half-nude body comes back into sight.

"Yeah, he's gone for now. Thankfully, Papa's gonna be on a business trip for the next few days, so we're gonna have the house to ourselves," I reassure him.

"Sound good. Now your old man'll never suspect anyone else being here," he sighs. I let my exhausted self plop down on the stool.

"This is perfect; now we can continue in peace."

He tries to get himself off the floor, grunting as he steadies against the walls with the towel wrapped around his waist. "Damn," he grits his teeth and finally stands. "I think I'm gonna need a little help getting to your room." Soul shoots me a sheepish smile.

"Watch where you're stepping!" I say as his arm settles around my shoulder and I guide him to the bedroom, tripping over each other's feets and swaying back and forth.

"I'm freakin' trying," he mutters, almost slamming into the wall with me. "But my leg hurts like hell."

I straighten my back in an attempt to prevent us from falling over again. "We're almost there. Is this okay?

"Yeah, I'm fine," he grunts in pain. "Just do your damn job."

"I would if we could even get to the room!"

"Shuddup! I'm tryin' okay?"

"Okay, we're steady over here...just a little more..."

"Ack! Watch it!"

"Okay, okay. I'm trying my best here." One trip and a step and a fall later when we finally reach the room, past the blood-stained carpet (I covered the mark with a pile of clothes; out of sight, out of mind), Soul flops on the bed, exhausted. "You okay?" I ask.

"Just _dandy_," he says dryly. "I swear, this murder case is gonna be the end of me," he mutters.

My life has officially become revolved around my computer desk; I eat there, fall asleep there, research there and pretty much live there. My notebook has officially become my Bible. I feel like I've been sitting at this computer for an eternity. Especially ever since I met Soul. I draw my breath and rub the sleep out of my sore eyes that have been staring at the same screen for hours. I had the gun number, as well as its owner; that should be enough to nail 'em, right? But after hearing what Landau's own son had to say, I thought otherwise, and turned back to my research.

I didn't care if I would not get enough sleep, because truthfully, even if I wanted to I couldn't. My bed was already occupied. After deciding that it was better for a boy with a severe leg injury to sleep on a bed rather than the floor of a closet, I reluctantly gave up the comforts of my own soft sheets and decided that perhaps _I_ should try sleeping the closet. Soul had gone down to the kitchen after my father had left to have a late-night snack (which I didn't really approve, but he snickered at me and went anyways) before he went to bed, and now I was left alone in my room, fixated on my computer screen.

Finally, after a month of hard research and many lists and possibilities, I have narrowed the list down to at least three suspects who have been suspects all along:

1) Steinworks Company. I know I haven't mentioned them a lot lately, but last week I found that this very company is the sworn rivals of the Evans. It's the perfect crime because a) they have the money to hire a proffesional assasin if they needed one, b) there's a motive as to why they would want the Evans' dead, and c) because they seemed like the perfect murder mystery suspects. But that still doesn't find the reason as to why they left Soul Eater alive and not dead.

2) The Doctor's son. Why would Kidd be acting so suspicious unless he had something to hide? _What_ exactly does he need to hide anyways? He was too vague for comfort. He knows something, and now he knows that we're onto him. We're in dangerous territory now.

My gaze falls on the clock. It's 2:23 pm, and already my eyelids are feeling heavy. But I must keep going; I'm too close to succumb to the numbing feel of lethargy. I recount my thoughts and slump over on my elbows, my eyes half-shut. And...lastly..._  
_

3) Wes Evans, Soul's own brother. From what I could tell, he acted very suspicious when his found that his brother had escape prison; not even a smile or an 'I'm glad you're back.' But then again, who would want to welcome in the boy who supposedly murdered your parents? I couldn't blame him, considering that in the parents' will it said that the new heir to the Evan's company riches would be Soul, therefore taking away all of the money that was supposedly for himself. That could count as a motive for revenge. The only problem? His alibi is clean-cut.

Finally resting my resistance to lean my head down sleep, I shot up from my desk and accidentally knock over the mouse. It clicks and a new window opens up on my page, and I am suddenly woken up all over again. Because the page that was open contained information about Landau that I had never seen before, nor was it open to the public. "What...is this?" I murmur, leaning my face in so close to the screen that I might as well kiss it. So many new numbers. So many new faces. It looks like he _did_ have some secrets to hide, and I was about to uncover them all.

I scroll down the page faster than my brain could absorb, only catching a few words. Illegal research. Lethal injections. Toxic medication. Rejected by the Evans family...

Why hasn't this information been released to the public yet?! Why haven't the detectives found this page before?!

My pounding heart beats too fast to count.

With the single stride of pen across paper, I furiously write down everything on the page; this is the final break in the case that I've been searching for.

_My research is finally done_. And I now know who the _real_ killer is, and it's -

Suddenly, I'm interrupted by a muffled crash outside, not far from my room. My senses are jolted awake and I spring up, calling Soul's name. "Soul are you okay out there?" No response, just a thud to the ground and the sickening sound of glass crunching against the tiles of the kitchen floor. "Soul!" I'm about to turn the doorknob in a panic. "Are you okay?" I run out of the room and down the hall to the source of the noise.

I stop short and gasp, seeing him lying face-down, shards of glass scattered all around his head and the neck of the bottle tact and rolling over right next to his fallen body. The kitchen lights were dimmed suspiciously low, and I could only see the outline of this body sprawled out on the floor. I wanted to rush over to him and shake him awake.

But my mind immediately spots a red flag; if the bottle had fallen to the ground, then wouldn't the whole thing break along with its base? But my thoughts weren't concerned about this suspicion, and I run to him anyways, calling his name, blinded by my own hastiness to see that someone was lying in wait for me in the shadows...

Just about when I was going to step my way carefully towards him, an arm lashes out from the darkness of the corridor from behind me and latches around my waist. My feet are practically limp as it drags me into the corner and against the person's body. The arm was strong, I admit, and muscular; too strong for me to even hope to overpower. I struggle to pry the arm off from my unknown attacker. Only seeing what was in front of me, I could slightly make out what he wore: his hands were covered with bulky black gloves and his wrists were covered with the cuffs of a grey businessmen's suit.

I tried to think of a move or some sort of organized way to pull myself away, but my mind was no longer dictated by thought, but by reflex: kicking, screaming, flailing, desperately trying to escape the grasp. "Shh! Be quiet!" The voice, a husky deep rumble of a man's, hisses as he clenches my waist tighter. I can't see the face, but his cheek presses up against the back of my head and his heavy breath rang in my ear.

I don't stop my struggling until he wrestles his arm around my neck into a headlock that was threateningly tight. "Let me go!" I yell and claw at his constricting grip, screaming Soul's name, digging my nails deep into his skin so much so that he grunts in pain.

"Stop struggling," He murmurs calmly at me and I squeal under his crushing grip strong enough to strangle me.

"Soul!" I scream his name involuntarily and knowing that he wouldn't rise up and save me. It was instinctual; my mind had gone into survival mode but I was as good as a cornered animal. I clung at the thought of him waking up and saving me, but he didn't even stir, laying on the ground unconscious while I fight for dear life.

"I'm sorry I must do this," he says in a hushed whisper that sounded far from sincere. The other hand reaches into his pocket and pulls out a needle and he waves it tauntingly in front of my face, making my struggling only more desperate as I see the small glint of the point.

Fear settles in, but there's nothing I can do now. "Everything will be fine..." He croons in my ear with a sickeningly gentle tone.

"No! Don't -" I plead, and his clutch grows tighter around my neck.

"Don't worry," he says soft enough to almost be considered soothing, and brings the needle downwards. "This will only be a _pinch_..."

It was only a pinch. I anticipated the plunger being pushed down as soon as he jabs me in the side of my stomach. My side feels cold now and my body begins to weaken. I could feel myself collapsing into his arms, and hear his small but triumphant chuckle while he loosens his hold on me. "Soul...please..." I manage to choke out one last time before everything becomes distant and fuzzy. The world around me begins to spin, and then I fall into a deep, dark velvety black.

* * *

**A/N: So guys what did you think of this chapter? Leave a review!**

**SilverBunni712**


	13. Keeps the Doctor Away

Chapter 13: Keeps the Doctor Away

I hadn't even noticed that the bastard had snuck up from behind until I heard the glass bottle being picked up behind me. Startled, I turned around not fast enough to see his face, but fast enough to catch a glimpse of my attacker taking a giant swing at my head. Then, just before I blacked out, I could hear something so familiar - the sharp thump of new, shiny black businessmen shoes walking towards me.

It was that, and nothing else. Now, I lay on the ground, barely regaining consciousness. My head hurts like a bitch. That's all I feel. Then, something else...

Maka. Where is she?

My eyes shoot open at the thought of her name. I wake up in the dark, knowing I had been in the kitchen before, feeling its cold hard tiles against my fingertips and pressed up against my cheek. Still lying on the ground, I struggle to rise off the floor, dizziness and pain threatening to knock me down again. Eventually I'm able to make it to the wall, and I use it to steady myself. I flick on the light switch and find a scattered mess of shards where I had fallen, and a few spots of blood. "Maka," I call out weakly, my legs wanting to cave in. "Maka!" Panic rises as there's no response. I limp to her room and shove away the door, revealing just an empty bedroom with its desk light and computer still on. And on the desk, next to the keyboard and notebook, a very disturbing sight: her glasses folded neatly, so neatly that it was meant for someone to notice them, right on top of her notebook and pencil.

He took her.

Under the glasses was a little piece of scrap paper with some scribbles. I pick up her glasses and stuff them in my pocket as I trained my blurred vision at the small handwriting: an address was scrawled above the haunting words "Come and Find Me." I crush the paper and stuff it in my pocket as well.

Fatigue and hurt no longer became a concern; I limped towards her window and out the fire extinguisher, despite the fact that my body screamed in pain and my head was light, and fumbled down the ladder and landed out onto the street. I had no idea where to look, or who did it, or that I was a wanted criminal; I needed to find her before she got hurt, or worse, killed. Only her name was on my mind.

Stopping at the corner of the alley, I gulp down my breaths and try to calm down for a moment. Where did her take her? Who is he? How would would he have known my location? Finally, I glance up.

And I'm greeted by the sight of a gun, cocked and aimed right in the middle of my forehead at point-blank range. I stare down at its gleaming barrel for a moment, bewildered, before hearing another dozens of guns cocking. "Soul Eater Evans, freeze! You're under arrest," the officer in front of me commands as his fellow officers surround me, their weapons pointed and loaded with police car headlights flashing red and blue in the background.

My eyes scan around me and I see officers on every side, including the one up in my face, on all sides. There's no escape. "Put your hands up and turn around!" He spat in my face. "Get down!" He takes the butt of his barrel and slams it down on my shoulder, as if getting a bottle bashed on my head and bullet to the leg wasn't enough.

I grunt as the officer wrestles me to the ground and force my hands behind my back, screaming like a madman, "Wait! No! He took her!" The man tells me to shut up and puts me in handcuffs, struggling to drag me into the car. "Lemme go, dammit! I have to save her!"

"Be quiet, Evans! We're haulin' your ass of to jail and there's no way you're ever getting out!" He roars at me and shoves me into the back of the police car.

"Listen to me, please!" I plead before he could slam the car door shut. "He's got her! He'll kill her if we don't save her now!" The officer gives me the craziest look; I'm speaking nothing but gibberish to him, and even to myself. There's no way they'd let me go now.

"Say what you want, your lies'll get you nowhere, kid," he chuckles and ignores me, slamming the door in my face and getting in the front seat to drive away.

I wish I was only lying. "I'm not, I swear," I insist while he drives forward and the police car is off, followed by a whole other brigade of cars behind it.

"Shuddup. I'm tryin' to drive - hey! What're you doin' back there?!" He yells as I lie down on the seat and kick at the glass pane of the car window. He slams into gas pedal and I'm thrown back into the seat.

I give up on escaping - it's not like I could escape with the entire force on my ass - but beg in my desperation, hoping and praying for Maka to be alright. I plead with them - pathetic, I know - until we drive to the precinct. As soon as we make it to the place, they lead me down a whole damn hallway with jail cells on both side. It was like going to a freakin' zoo. FIghting all the way until they finally toss me into the temporary jail cell, the guard spits at me and locks the cell closed.

"Wait! Shit!" I curse and forcefully kick the bars with my foot as hard as I could, pulling at my white hair with frustration. I imagined Maka in the worst place; I had no idea where she could be, or what he could be doing to her to right now. For all I know, she could already be dead! Pacing around the dim, concrete-grey, I run back up to the bars and wait for another guard to pass, gripping the metal so hard I swear my fingers would dislocate. But no one comes.

This was all my fault; I should've never dragged her in this in the first place. I could've just stayed a convict for the rest of my life. I could've just gotten arrested. I could've just jumped off a freakin' bridge. I could've ignored her when I ran through that alley. I shouldn't have grabbed her hand in the first place.

I let out a loud, painful cry that awakens the whole jail and out into the hallways. An innocent life is being put on the line, all thanks to me. Boos and insults were shouted from other cells and directed at me. Resting my head solemnly against the bars, I slump down to the floor hopelessly.

The door all the way at the end of the hallway opens, and a guard passes through row after row of cells, inspecting each. "So," he chuckles at mine. "You're the new prisoner everyone's been talking about." The man, whose face was hidden by the brim of his hat, sits down on a seat next to my cell. "I'll be here for surveillance all night, so you'd better get comfy," he mocks.

My pacing gets faster and faster still, thoughts of worry circulating around my head. I wondered if I'd ever get out in time to save her. I doubted it, though. "It's not fair," I mutter to myself. "Maka, I'm sorry."

"Life ain't fair, buddy," he says suddenly.

"It's not about me, jackass," I hiss at him. "It's none of your damn business."

"Fine, then. Suit yourself." He bends the tip of his hat down over his eyes more and reclines in the chair, starting to snore.

I peer up at the small barred window on the jail cell wall, the only source of light for my little prison. I was all out of ideas; I could do nothing but sit here and wait. Sit here and wait while Maka is out there somewhere, being tortured or killed or assaulted...

There was nothing else to do but plop down on the bed and cradle my head in my hands, ignoring the pain surging through my stomach and the pounding in my temples. I give up, until I hear a loud swoop and a bang and a thud. I look up from my brooding and find that the guard has fallen to the ground with another guard standing over him. "Hey!" The only thing that I notice is that his keys were being unclipped by the boy, who took them and searched in the batch of keys for the right on and begins to unlock my cell.

He looked up at me with a huge, toothy grin. A grin that I was far too familiar with, along with his spiky blue hair tucked underneath a prison guard's hat. "BlackStar!" I yell with gratitude and run towards him as the bars slide open.

"Heh, Soul. Whaddya doin' back in jail? I thought you said you were never gonna get caught," he smirks and grabs me into a playful headlock.

"How? How in the hell did you find me?!"

"Whaddya mean how? I saw the scene where you got arrested; it was a whole big thing, so I had to check it out. Little did I know that it'd be you. So I decided to follow you and do a little sneakin' in."

"That's...impossible," I beam at him and wrestle his beefy hands off. He hands me a gun.

"Nothin's impossible for a BIG STAR LIKE ME!" He roars and once again the other prisoners come to life. "Now let's get the hell outta here!"

"You came at the right time," I say and cock the gun. "I gotta get outta here fast. Someone needs me."

We proceed down the hallway, cautiously, while I tell him what the hell was going on. He only nods. "So you gotta go save your girlfriend now, I gotcha."

I slink quietly towards the door and peer out into the little window. "This place is crawling with 'em," I warn him.

"Don't worry, there's no way they're ever gonna match up to a god!" He charges through the door, not even giving time for the bewildered officers to ready their own weapons. We rush down another long stretch of hallway, knocking down guards as we do, until I spot the guy who arrested me in the first place.

He stopped in the middle of the hall, confused at seeing me, until I ram into him and shove him up against the wall. "Who did it?!" I demand.

"What?!" His voice shook. "W-who did what?!"

"Who knew of my location?! Who was the caller?!"

"The man who called you in? I...I forgot his name..." I shove him harder and he manages to mutter out only one word:

"Landau."

Everything else was a blur; BlackStar rampaging in the front lobby filled with unsuspecting cops, me grabbing the key to a police car and running out the building with bullets flying out after us, only to realize that we had no idea which car would start with our key. Luckily BlackStar knew how to wire a car.

But that luck diminished quickly as we realized that neither of us could actually _drive_ a car. "This is an emergency, for fuck's sake! JUST DRIVE THE DAMN THING!" I roar at him while we duck under the window from the onslaught of bullets.

"I'm trying!" He retorts, pushing the two bare wire parts together gently, until the engine sputters to life.

"Hold on!" I slam my foot into the gas pedal, and we shot forward while I struggle to grip the steering wheel, swerving all around the parking lot as I did.

"Goddam it, Soul! Sl-slow down!" He cries and clings to his seat for dear life.

"No way!" i shout above the rumble and screech of tire against asphalt as I skid out into the open road. "Reach in my pocket and grab that piece of paper in there," I order him. "Read the address on it."

"It says...um," a horn honks loudly at us, narrowly avoiding its bumper being torn off when I cut him off. "42nd Street, Pier number 13...?"

"How long do you think it'll take us to get there?" I ask him.

"It takes like twenty or thirty minutes to get to pier from here, but at the rate you're going it'll probably only take us fifteen.

"Perfect," I say, hunching over the wheel and pressing down on the pedal even harder as horns honk angrily at us with a whole entire mob of flashing cop cars blaring from behind.

New York City traffic is pretty great if you're driving around at 3 am. There's barely any cars out on the street as we zoom past a few stragglers, barely keeping a small distance between us and the police. "Is this the right way?" I ask BlackStar and make a sharp left turn that nearly knocks us into the curb.

"Y-yeah...I think I'm gonna puke..." he mutters and leans down at the window.

"Just a little longer!" I can see the pier - or piers - in sight: we rode up a hill and down in front was the harbor, surrounded by a cluster of small buildings. "Here we go!" My foot couldn't be more harder against the gas, and we rush forward and break past the iron gate. "BlackStar, I need you to look around for Pier 13!"

My eyes are concentrated ahead, and I hear a sudden paused from him. "There! To your left!" Swerving to a stop next to a giant wooden structure, I hope out and run towards the shelter of the side of the building. There's light where the small slits of the door were. No other noise could be heard from it except from the wailing sirens approaching. BlackStar left the care slowly, taking his gun out and cocking it, his eyes fired up with determination.

"You go! I'll hold them off!" He yells. "Hurry, Soul! Go save your girlfriend!"

"I will," I promise and set my hand on the large bulky doors, my stomach lurching just by thinking what I could find inside.

But I ignore it; I had made a promise to Maka that I'd protect her, and I'd make sure that I will fulfill it.

* * *

**A/N: Hooray, some more BlackStar action. So what did you guys think about this chapter? Thanks for leaving so many reviews last chapter! I really appreciated them; they motivate me to keep writing. **

**SilverBunni712**


	14. The Perfect Crime

Chapter 14: The Perfect Crime

Finally when I wake, all I see is darkness. Only because I don't have the strength to open my eyes. I couldn't move at all. My hands try to feel around for me, but they're stuck behind my back, tied together so tight that I can feel my wrists burning, raw and red. A groan escapes my throat, and I lull my aching head to the side and gather my wits, eyes opening and adjusting to the harsh light.

I can't see clearly.

Where are my glasses...?

Everything around me is a blur. Without my glasses, I can only make out shadows and the light. No sound penetrates the silent air as I crane my head up with an achy neck, looking around at my surroundings. The only light in the whole place was shining down on me, forming a little circle around where I sat. I look around the other way and all I see are boxes hidden in the shadows. Boxes and crates everywhere, except directly in front of me. I look down, finding that I was tied to a chair.

Where am I?

I struggle, trying to break my hands free of the binds and feeling the ropes searing against my skin. My mouth was so dry, probably from the cloth that had been stuffed in it tightly. I try to cry out to someone, anyone, but my voice came out muffled and pathetic.

"Shh. Be quiet," a voice emanates from the darkness around me, followed by the echo of his heavy-booted footsteps approaching. The man stood right outside in the shadow, right out where I was unable to see nothing but an outline of his figure. "I'll take off the gag, as long as you don't scream." That man. I recognize his voice. "Are you listening to me?"

I nod slowly. He took one step towards me, his shiny black shoes first appearing, then his black suit, then finally his face. I squint to see his face. He looked so ancient - his grayed hair was gelled downwards with not a strand near his eyes with careful neatness, and his gloved hands were tucked neatly in front. His face, chiseled and slightly unshaven, looked matured with his age, which I couldn't quite calculate. He fixed his wise almond-eyed gaze on me.

"Don't scream," he orders as he reaches out towards my face, tugging the gag loose and out of my mouth.

"You're...the one who killed Soul's parents," I choke out. "You're the doctor, Landau."

"Soul, eh? I never though he'd actually take a liking to that name," he smiles slyly and paces around me. "But you are quite correct; I am, in fact, the actual murderer that you have been searching for. After masking my trail for so long from the investigators, I'm surprised that the only person I would really have to watch out for was a little girl. You are quite impressive." I continue to fight against the ropes while he talked.

"What...what did you do to me? Where are we?"

"Don't worry, the thing I had injected you with was merely a sedative. However, it must seem obvious why you are here. I have taken you to the pier docks in the city, where I had deemed it the best place to be secluded, where no one can know where we are. You probably already know why you're here. Simply put, you know too much, and now you must be gotten rid of."

"There's no way that's gonna happen!" I scream at him with a hint of fear in my voice. "Soul's gonna..." I stop myself.

He laughs. "Your precious little Soul, I'm afraid, is not coming to rescue you. He is in the hands of the police now. I'm afraid no one is coming to find you, or at least not for the next two days," he chuckles and the hope in me starts to diminish. "My plan has been working perfectly. Ever since you two had given me a call, I began to take action after action and took precautionary steps to make sure. Why, I even had to give your apartment a little visit to check up on my dear little Soul, but he was not there. I started to doubt he was telling the truth, until I saw that notebook of yours," his voice lowers. "And I knew you had become a threat. But! There's no need to worry now. Now that everything is as I planned it to be, there will be no trace of evidence that _I_ had been the one to plant a bullet in the Evans' heads."

"There's no way you'll get away with all the horrible things you did to him and his family! The way you made him suffer!"

"They deserved what they got," he retorted. "I admit, the boy was innocent and I had grown fond of him during my visits, but it had to be done. The Evans had to learn not to destroy my whole life's worth of research."

"But you knew that your studies are wrong! Illegal drugs and lethal injections? Human experimentation? They had a right to reject your research!"

"QUIET!" HIs voice trembled with anger and he clenched his fists. "What I did was right. I had worked my whole entire life off for them."

"You destroyed an innocent boy's life!"

"It was necessary. The Evans needed to pay, and pay dearly."

"How could you kill the people you've known for years? You monster..." He circles from behind me and leans over my shoulder. "The only thing that I wasn't able to figure out is how you managed to do it..."

"If you were in my position, I guarantee you would think differently," he says. "The process was simple, actually. My research led me to find new serums that could bend the human will - mind-control, if you will. The only problem is...I had no one to test it on. So why not give it a test run on the son of my worst enemies?" He laughs, reminiscing in his own evil plot. "All I had to do was whisper in the boy's ear after injecting the serum while he slept. Then I left, while he did the dirty work. What an obedient son he is. In a way, I suppose, it was he himself who killed his parents. But his act would always be under my will."

He stops short in front of me. "I can't believe..." my voice is trembling now. "I can't believe you forced him to kill his own parents..."

"Don't worry, it was all for the better. Better for me, of course. And now, Soul is where he should be - in jail. I almost feel guilty," he snickers. "Ah, yes, where was I?" Landau turns and reaches out to cradle the tip of my chin, turning my face upwards so he could examine me.

"Wh-what are you gonna do to me? Dispose of me now?"

"Hmm...no, not like this; I would never do such atrocious things to a lovely young lady like you," he lets go of my chin and walks back into the shadows, rummaging around in the dark for something while I wait, my heart pounding loudly in my ear. What would he do to me? "However, I have decided that a chance like this will probably never come again." He comes back into sight, but this time with a gleaming silver briefcase dangling from one hand. "I have always been in need of a new research subject to test my new serums on..." He clicks open the case and pulls out a shiny, new syringe. I squirm in my seat at the sight of it. "Hold still," he smiles softly and brings the needle closer.

"G-get away from me!" I yell.

"This will only be a _pinch_..." I squeezed my eyes shut, cringing and waiting for the point to pierce my skin, until there is a sudden screech of tires outside. Landau freezes, his eyebrows arching in annoyance.

"Is that police sirens I hear...?" He thinks to himself while the muffled voices get closer. "Well, I'd never thought he'd _actually_ escape." He chuckles. "Well, this is a minor setback for us," he tucks the syringe back into the briefcase quickly.

I recognize one of those voices: it's Soul. I can hear him outside! The urge to scream his name is cut short by Landau tucking the cloth back into my mouth, shushing me while he backed away into a corner that was hidden from view. The door suddenly creaks open, and a wary albino boy's head pops in. "Maka!" He yells with relief and closes the door, starting to make his way towards me. Calling his name, desperately trying to warn him of the danger that hid in the corner, waiting to pounce on him, but my struggle only made him come closer, my warnings muffled and desperate. "Hold on! I'm coming!" Soul rushes towards me with frantic footsteps.

"N-no! It's a trap!" I spit out as soon as he pulls the gag out. "Get outta here, Soul!"

"Huh?" He drew back in shock as the silhouette of a broad man appeared behind him.

"Behind you!" I scream. He swiftly turns around, and Landau swing his fist out at his face, landing a punch on his cheek and sending him flying to the side. "Soul!" I scream, leaning down towards his fallen body hunched over on the floor with pain.

Landau laughs and looms over him while Soul lays on the floor, bewildered and clenching his cheek. "Hello, Soul Eater. I never expected to see you in person ever again. How disappointing," he pouts mockingly.

Soul glanced up from his confusion and his jaw nearly dropped. "Landau!" He growls.

Landau laughs and kicks him in stomach, digging his heel into his gut while he snarls in pain. "Stop it!" I yell. "Soul!"

"It's finally time to end this," Landau sneers at him.

"You...you killed them," he snarled weakly.

"Hmph." The doctor swiftly turned around. "It took you this long to figure out."

"My parent trusted you..." Soul's tone grew deeper and his arm rose and grabbed his foot. Landau shook off his grip and kicked him again and he yelped, clenching his stomach and doubled over. "I...trusted you."

"As did I," he retorted calmly. "I'm afraid it is _your_ parents who betrayed me."

Suddenly, Soul let out a loud grunt and hoisted himself upwards, his crimson eyes burning with rage. "You bastard!" he snarls and charges towards the turned back of the doctor, and tackles him against the crates.

Landau only laughs in his face, grabbing the collar of Soul's jacket. "Well, well," he smiles wryly. "Look who's decided to be a grown up little boy."

"We're gonna end this now," Soul says, glaring at him. "I won't let you hurt anyone anymore."

"Well, we'll have to see about that."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the short chappie! I just posted a new story called "How to Take a Leap of Faith," and I'd be really grateful if you checked it out. Thanks for reading, please leave a review, as usual.**

**SilverBunni712 **


	15. Hide-and-Seek

Chapter 15: Hide-and-Seek

Landau sports a wicked grin as I furiously shove him against the wall. "Time to end this," I growl in his face.

"Aww, you don't have to be like this Soul. Don't you want to hear a story first? It's a wonderful tale, really, it is. It's about how a rich little boy's snobby parents got taken down by a mad genius, who was determined to - "

"Shut up! Haven't you put me through enough already?!"

He shrivels down slightly under my grip and a fake innocent smile spreads across his face. "Come now, Soul. Don't you want to know how I did it? How I snuck into your house in the middle of the night?"

"I said shut up!" My arms shook with rage remembering the faint image of my parents laying still in their bed, the pillows soaked with blood and their eyes wide open, staring up into the ceiling with a lifeless gaze. The blurry image of waking up on the middle of the carpet in their room, remembering nothing from before, holding an emptied gun in my right hand. Funny, since I had always been a lefty. "Stop talking, dammit!"

"You slept like a baby," he continues tauntingly. "You parents didn't even know. They were sleeping like a babies, too, when you wandered into their rooms with a loaded pistol."

His words seeped into me like poison. I was too consumed by anger to see that this hand was slowly reaching down to his belt to pull something from its holster...

"Soul! Look out he's got a gun!" Maka shouts in the background. I glance down and see the shiny black barrel of a pistol pointed at the center of my stomach with Landau's finger on the trigger.

"You lose, Soul," he whispers and pushes me back and I land on the floor with a thud. "Look at what a mess you've made," he says with the gun aimed at my forehead now. "You've endangered the life of an innocent young girl -" he motions towards Maka, still struggling with her binds "- and you've sent New York City into a panic." He pauses to listen to the sounds of bullets being shot outside, where BlackStar was fighting a whole brigade of police officers and probably losing. "Imagine what would've happened if you just stayed where you were supposed to be - jail."

"You bastard! I'll never forgive you for killing my mom and dad and hurting my friend!" I snarl and he holds the barrel closer.

"If only you knew the hell your parents put me through," he says, concentrating hard on the center of my forehead.

"Stop it!" Maka begs from the other side.

He pauses suddenly and motions to her with the gun. "It's so sad I have to get rid of a lovely young lady like her," he pouts. And he let his guard down.

"Don't touch..." Rage courses through my veins, and my forehead pounds loudly in my ears. "Don't touch her!" I lunge at him, to his surprise, and tackle him to the floor as the gun in his hand lands with him. Pinning his arms down, I glare at his frightened face. "I swear, if you ever touch Maka, I will. Kill. You," I threaten under my breath.

He laughs, suddenly gaining his confidence back, his gun hand squirming underneath my grip. "How cute. It seems like the criminal has fallen in love."

"I'm not the criminal here!"

"That's too bad," he says and he suddenly jerks me off his body. The lights and the floor are a blur as we roll on the ground, wrestling for the gun. I clutch the hand with the gun desperately in my grip as he jerks it upwards and grabs my hand, trying to pin me down. I could hear Maka's cries in the background as we fight. Geez! For an old man, he's pretty strong.

"Gah!" I yelp as he crushes my wrist, still holding onto the gun hand for dear life.

"Let go!" He growls and pulls the trigger. The bullet flies upward and into the ceiling light, setting off a barrage of sparks while the light around us flickered unsteadily. Finally, I rocket upwards and shove him off me and he hits the ground, smushed under my weight.

"Gimme the damn gun!" I yell into his face, my hand still on his.

Landau's other hand grabs my throat, and I struggle to rip his hand off. "Never! I've worked too hard and too long for my spoils of war to be ruined by you!" I can feel his hand squeezing, crushing my wind pipe, but I still don't let go!

"I...refuse to let you win..." I manage, my lung emptying of its air with those words.

He growls loudly and uses his legs to rocket me off his chest and my back slams into the metal racks behind me. "This battle has already been decided!" He maliciously yells, rising back up off the ground and steadying himself. "I told you already! You lose S -"

The doctor roars with pain as Maka, who just escaped from her chair, jumps onto his back, pulling and scratching at his arms and face and directing the gun away from my head. "Soul!" She screams over his attempts to reach back and grab or shoot her. "Get the gun!"

Instinctually, I went for the gun as Maka wraps her arms around his neck while both his arms flailed behind him, grabbing at the girl who was clinging onto his neck like a damn monkey. "Dammit!" He spat out a curse and struggled with both me and her for the gun, holding his hand up so high I was tempted to bite it. "Argh!" She latched around his other arm, securing it so he couldn't get to me. But the damn guy towered over me! And his arm was impossible stretch.

"Hurry!" She cries and claws at his cheeks and left red bright marks, pulling his face back and distracting him enough so I could knock the gun out of his hand.

"ENOUGH!" His thunderous shouts echo, and he whips around and flings Maka off his back and into me. We slam, her back caught (painfully) by my chest, into a pile of crates.

Maka gasps as Landau regains his senses. "The gun!" It had only landed a few feet behind him! She grabs my hand, and we're off running down into the darkness of the rest of the structure, leaving him standing in the middle of the circle of light. "We don't have time to pick it up! He'll get it before us!" She says as we sprint through the darkness, me bumping into each damn metal rack as we pass.

"GET BACK HEREEEE!" Landau's enraged cries followed after us even though he was just a little dot of light.

"Maka! Where are we going?" I could feel my injured legs starting to cave in.

"Just keep running! I'm sure there's some sort of exit back here, although I never knew these buildings could go far back..."

"Soul!" The doctor's voice was now a murmur, but I assumed that he was coming after us now. _  
_

"Stop," I yank her to a stop and rest up against what I think was a wooden crate. "There's no use if we're trapped back here because we can't see." Now I could here frantic footsteps rummaging around for a light source.

"I think...I think I can see some sort of window..." She murmurs and her shadow reaches for a small square of light. "There has to be something that provides even a little light..." There's a sudden click, and the whole ceiling flashes to life with light down our dark little hallway. Maka stops to take a breath along with me, her head bowed in thought. "If we keep running this way, then we can escape his -"

"Maka," I interrupt her suddenly during one of her thinking-induced trances. "This is where you get off."

"Wh-what?"

"You have to stop here. This is not your fight, it's mine," I say. "I have to deal with Landau on my own. He's my problem."

"What are you talking about?" She retorted angrily. "I can't just leave you here!"

"And I can't let him kill another person who's close to me!" Maka quieted down and there is a brief pause so my words could soak into the atmosphere. "It's time for you to get outta here. This is my burden to carry. Here, take this," I reach into my pocket and snatch her glasses and place it in the palm of her hand. "If I don't come home tonight, then expect the worst."

Swiftly turning around, I start to make my way further into the hallway. "No." Maka grabs my wrist suddenly and pulls me around. "Don't think that after everything that's happened to us I'd just leave like this! This is no longer just _your_ burden. It's _mine_ now, too," she says firmly. "We've shared this burden ever since I decided to help you. And now we have to bare it together." Her grip tightens.

"I thought you'd say that," I say with a sigh. "Dammit, Maka. You're too stubborn for me." I chuckle and she loosens her grip. "Well, I'm gonna guess that there's no way to convince you otherwise."

She nods. "I can't let you have all the adventure."

"SOOOUUUULL!" Landau roars, his voice and thumping footsteps approaching closer.

"We better go deeper!" I say, gathering my strength back and ignoring the pain in my shot leg.

"Do you even have a plan?" She asks as we run hand-in-hand onwards.

"When have I ever?" I smirk and try to remember the last time we had held hands - in that subway and when we met, maybe? I didn't know; it was just a fuzzy memory now. "Just don't get shot."

"I think we should split up. This way, he can't aim at the both of us at the same time," Maka suggests and I agree.

"The only thing is, where are we gonna hide?"

"Look!" The hallway ended in two sharp turns - one left and the other right. "I wonder how long this thing can go on for..." We stop at the fork, examining the endless stretch of concrete on both sides.

"I can see you!" The sound of a gun cocking echoes behind us, and Maka and I let go and scram in different directions. I only pray that he won't go right.

My breath is running out after all this running. I utter a curse and waste what little air I had already and stop and hide behind a pile of crates. "Please...don't go right..." I mutter.

"SOULL! WHERE ARE YOU?" Landau's voice is right around the corner and I guessed he was at the fork in the hallway. _Please don't go right..._ "SOULLL!" He hollers with sick joy, emptying his gun of a few bullets. "COME OUT AND PLAY WITH YOU OLD UNCLE LANDAU!" _Please don't go right... _ "It's okay! I guess we'll just play some hide-and-seek instead!" His grotesquely-happy laughter fades away into the background, getting softer and softer.

Shit. He went right.

I peek around the corner and find that he was nowhere in sight. He went right, I repeat to myself and find the power to lift up from the boxes and stumble towards the fork. I had to protect her. "COME OUT, COME OUT, WHEREVER YOU ARE!"

Thankfully, the right hallway is more cluttered than my own. Boxes, crates, and metal rings hang out haphazardly from their shelves, and the floor is blanketed in a layer of sawdust. I struggle to dodge each jutted out edges that threaten to add another injury on my ever-growing list, and try to locate the sound of his voice.

I couldn't let him touch her.

Finally, I spot him lurking down a hallway, his gun pointed in front of him and his back turned. "OVER HERE, LANDAU!" I shout and he twists around, nearly landing a bullet in me if I hadn't taken off.

"GET BACK HERE!" I ran down a hallway parallel to his, past the countless shelves and metal, until a poll suddenly rockets through on of the slots and almost impales me. "I found you!" Landau yells and I see his image through the small slits.

"Now you have to catch me," I taunt and I watch as he takes off in my direction. I practically fly past the maze of metal with sharp turns - left, then right, then left, then right again, until I decide that it was safe now.

My lungs are about to burst and my legs are burning, even after I collapse behind a rack that offered a decent amount of hiding space. I glance out the side of my spot and hear him approaching closer, and I know it'll be time to get up and run again. I don't know how long I can keep up with this. I might as well just let him shoot me.

Managing to crawl into the next aisle, I lay flat on my stomach and shrink up against the sawdust-covered ground as much as I could, hoping he wouldn't spot me as he passed. His heavy-booted footsteps thump slowly and cautiously nearby. They sound closer than ever, probably in the next hallway over, but I'm already screwed; even if I had time to get up and run, he'd still have time to plant a bullet in my ass without hesitation.

I rest my eyes for a second, seeing that there was no other thing I can do, and wait. They're so close now. "Soul?" His sing-song voice penetrates my thoughts. "Where are you?" I wait some more. The footsteps are near, but ebbing away slowly. He turned the other way, I hoped.

Rising off the ground slowly and soundlessly, I tip-toe my way towards the end and assume that Landau headed the opposite way. I let out a silent sigh. Maybe if I lead him all the way down -

"SOUL!" He screams and rounds the corner. Landau runs after me, shooting the gun as he does. My legs push harder even though they're hurting and I zigzag, wary of what ricocheting bullets can do. "COME BACK HERE! I HAVE SOMETHING TO GIVE YOU!"

Almost there! I could see a small area where it dead-ends with only a wall in my way. I push through the woods laying around and shove against the back door and tried to find an exit. But the damn wouldn't give and Landau was right behind me. "Gotcha." He laughs, cocking his pistol while I ram my shoulders into the jammed door. "Now, turn around slowly," he commands. I turn around, my hands raised in defeat. "Stupid boy," he snarls with glee. "Come closer." I step out carefully with my hands still up. "Finally, my crowning moment has finally come! This is the day I have finally won!"

"If you're gonna start rambling on, just shoot me already," I tell him dryly.

"Oh, no. I can't possibly do that. I want to make you suffer first. I swear, I will make you watch as I slowly take the life of your little girlfriend with my own hands -" He paused, observing me for a moment and processing my emotions. "...what's wrong? Why aren't you mad like before?!" Panic arose in his voice as a smirk slithers its way on my face. "Why aren't you mad? Don't smile! I'll kill you!" He thrusts the gun out towards me.

"Y'know, for a genius man like you, you're not too smart," I say and point to a space behind me, where Maka was standing with a slab of metal in her hand.

"Huh?" He turns around just as she whacks him across the head with a metallic clang and knocks him to the ground still conscious, but groaning.

* * *

**A/N: Ugh, thank god I was able to get some internet access after Hurricane Sandy took out my electricity. Anyways, I feel like I ended this chappie a bit short, so I will leave it at this for now. **

**Oh, look at that: I changed my pen name from SilverBunni712 to Amber Masquerade. *inserts dramatic music here* I've been wanting to change that name for a while now. Anyways...please leave a review! Thanks for reading!**

**(this feels so awkward leaving a new signature here) **

**~Amber**


	16. The Ex-Fugitive and the Prodigy

Chapter 16: The Ex-Fugitive and the Prodigy

"That's payback for kidnapping me," I huff and snatch the gun from his hand, walking over to Soul and handing him the gun.

"Nice timing," he says and cocks it.

"Is it finally over?" I ask.

"I guess it is."

"You think it's over?" Landau chuckled, sprawled out on the floor and feeling the lump on the back of his head. "You think you can just finish me and walk away? You're still a fugitive! No matter what you say, or how hard you try, you won't be able to convince the police!" He laughs. "You're still Soul Eater, not Seth Evans!"

"You're right..." He trailed off, staring longingly at the gun. "I will always be Soul Eater, and nothing can change that."

"What are you planning on doing now? You know you can't just walk away from this!"

I glance at Soul and see the saddened glint in his eyes. "I guess you're right able that, too. I'm never gonna be able to get that crime off my head."

"Hmph. By confronting me, you've accomplished nothing! You haven't changed anything," he growls. "What are you gonna do now?"

"I think you'd know damn well what happens next." Soul walked over slowly and loomed over him with the gun pointed straight at his forehead. "I'll kill you," He snarls, his finger itching to pull the trigger. Landau stares at the barrel with disbelief and then smiles evilly.

"Well, well. It looks like the tables have turn on me. Congratulation, Seth. You officially live up to your name."

He pauses, and his trembling finger tightening against the latch relaxes. "As if I'd kill your sorry ass such a painless death," he smirks. "Besides," Soul glances at me. "I promised someone who's important to me that I would never become like you." His arm drops, and so does the barrel of the gun that had been aimed at his face.

After a slight pause of bewilderment, the doctor lets out a mocking laugh. "I knew you never had it in you. It doesn't matter whether you shoot me or not, you're still a fugitive!" He chortles maniacally. "Even if you don't kill me now, everyone will still see you as the murderer you are! Nothing will ever be able to change that!" He rolls back his head with a demented laugh. "No one will ever know that _I_ was the one who killed your parents and framed you! No one will ever know the truth! You lose, Eater!" He roared triumphantly. "You lose!"

"I'm afraid that's where you're wrong," A voice booms from behind, followed by the faint patter footsteps. A boy walks into the light, wearing a black suit and black shoes with cold, golden eyes. He walked with his back straight and hands tucked neatly behind his back, and the three stripes of white running horizontally though only half of his head made him look quite strange. My mind processed. Male, age 15, yellow eyes, black hair, height: 5'4.

"Who the hell are you?" Soul steps back, sensing that there were more people coming from behind the boy who stood there.

"K-Kidd!" Landau shouts with relief. "My son...you've finally come to save me."

Kidd drew back with disgust. "I think not, _step-father_." He waits until a barrage of police swarm the area, pointing their guns everywhere and yelling orders. "I'm sick and tired of your little games."

"Get your hands up! Put the weapon down!" They ordered and Soul drops his gun, kicking it to the officers. I reach for Soul's hand and clutch it tightly and he squeezes back. "Not you two," one officer orders us. "Dr. Landau? You're under arrest for the murder of the Evans family."

"What?!" Landau resists the man who started to handcuff him. "Wait! You can't arrest me! I am famous, I am a world-renowned doctor! The murderer's right there!"

"No, they're quite correct," Kidd says, holding up a tape recorder from behind his back. "Moments ago, you confessed to their killing. And now, we have it on tape."

Landau glares at his step-son, shouting threats and cursing him, calling him a traitor. "You little bastard! How could you betray your own father!" His voice began to fade as the police drag him away.

"For the record, I have never been your son to begin with," Kidd snorts and brushes off his suit.

The officers who remained came approach us and ask, "Sir, ma'am, are you okay?"

I nod slowly and glance at Soul, who looks slightly pale. "Soul?" I ask, and his hand holding mine begins to tremble. "Are you feeling okay?"

"D-Damn..." He collapses to his knees, clenching his knee where he was shot only a few days ago, and his jeans stained a deep red that ran down to his ankle.

"Sir? Are you okay?" He asks again and shines a flashlight in his eyes.

"Soul!" I grab him before he falls flat on the ground, groaning and holding his leg.

"Ow..." he mutters. "Don't worry, ol' Soul Eater...can handle this..." He looks up and manages a weak grin.

After telling the man that he had been shot, he ran to another officer and told him to get an ambulance, running back to us to examine his leg. "This is officer Sid," he says into his radio. "We've got an injured civilian whose got a shot leg here. It's a flesh wound, but he's losing serious blood. Requesting an ambulance immediately."

I cradle his chin towards my neck and wrap my arms his shoulders to stop him from falling. "Please. Please help him," I beg.

"Don't worry, ma'am. We'll get him to a hospital as soon as possible and patch him up good," the officer says and stands, allowing a stretcher to come through.

"Ouch! Careful, dammit!" Soul grunts as they try to lift him up on the stretcher and start to wheel him away.

"Ma'am, come with us," the EMS workers who surrounded the stretcher guide me along with them, asking if I had any injuries of my own. With the exception that my head was a little light from the sedatives, I answer no. As soon as they load Soul into the van, I hop in and stand right next to him, hovering over the stretcher as he offers a small grin while the workers administer pressure to his leg. "You're gonna be fine, sir. We just need to stop the bleeding and remove the bullet lodged in your leg."

"You'll be okay, right?" I whisper and give a tender smile, grasping his limp hand and holding it tight as his face gets paler and paler.

"I'll be fine..." he murmurs and runs his gentle fingers in between mine.

"We're almost there, so don't worry," one of the workers put her hand on my shoulder reassuringly. The ambulance van makes a sharp stop, and the driver swings to door open and hoist him down with me trailing behind them.

"Get him into the emergency room quick!"

"Hurry! He's losing more blood!"

"Call the surgeon!"

They rush into the hospital and roll him down the hallway and stop in the middle. "We're gonna prepare a room for him," the worker says. "You can have a little time with him now until then."

His eyes flutter open for a moment and he looks up at me with carefully. "Don't be so worried Maka," he assures me and reaches for my hand. "I'll be fine."

I hear the shouting of the nurses and doctor in the distance, and I prepare my goodbye. Before the hospital nurses and doctors could wheel him away into the surgical room, I leaned down, eyes partially shut, and pressed my soft lips against his. Soul's hands slid up to the back of her neck, bringing my face closer, feeling the warm pleasure of a kiss for the first time. "I know you'll be," I murmur gently as my lips left his, and he stared at me in disbelief.

"Huh...uh huh..." He mutters a response that was supposed to be words and watches as I smile softly and wander away, giving him one last hopeful glance.

* * *

My legs are getting restless from sitting in the hospital chair for so long. 3 hours and 22 minutes and 3 seconds of waiting in a little room for a doctor to walk in and tell me that Soul's okay. My feet tap relentlessly against the carpet floor and my fingers squeeze my shoulders tightly, as it becomes 3 hours 23 minutes and 16 seconds that I've been waiting. Suddenly, the door creaks open slowly and a doctor finally walks in. "It's been a long night, but we've successfully completed the surgery. We've removed the bullet that got lodged into his leg and closed up the wound. He should be fine now. In fact, he's even awake."

I jump up in my seat, my heart racing. "Is it okay if I see him now?"

"Yes, you may. But one thing before you go!"

"Um, yes?"

"As a victim of a shooting incident who lost a lot of blood over the course of days, I was baffled at the fact that he was able to go on like that. I found it strange that he wasn't dead from all that blood loss. But then I realized that it wasn't his body that helped him keep going; it was his mind that pushed him. What I mean is that there was something in his life that kept him from falling, something - or someone - that was very important to him that helped him. It kind of was his driving force, if you will."

"I don't quite understand, doctor."

"In simpler terms, when I look at you and how you've stayed this long for him and worried about him for this long, I think he cares very deeply for you. You were the person who kept him going. You were his driving force. Anyways, I shouldn't be running my mouth. You may see him now."

I manage a smile at the thought of his words. "Thank you so much!" After shaking his hand quickly, I dart out the door and down the hallway to him. I open the door to his room slowly and find him lying down on the bed, his crimson eyes concentrated on the white ceiling above.

"Maka?" He turns to me as I walk in and sit at his bedside, and reaches for my hand.

"I'm so glad you're alright. How do you feel?" I ask.

"Like a million bucks," he grins. "How are _you_ feeling? I mean, you just got kidnapped."

I laugh. "I'm fine too, but I'm not the one who got shot in the leg."

"Heh, I told you it was just a scratch. A little bullet like that won't bring down someone like me," he chuckles.

"I'm glad," I say softly.

"Hm, speaking of which..." He props himself up on the bed carefully. "You kissed me before."

I was pretty sure my face was steaming magenta without looking in a mirror. "O-oh...t-that...I mean...I was just I-I like - I was, I mean I was trying to write my book!"

"A dash of romance?" He repeats with a sly smirk. "I thought you said that a long time ago and you gave up on that old book."

"You know I never forget anything," I say, pulling out the notebook with my little notes in it. "All 1087 words."

He chuckled softly. "You know, I've missed that weird counting thing you had."

"I know, but...I dunno. Lately I haven't been counting because I've been too busy worrying about you and your dangerous missions."

"Well, that shouldn't be a surprise. After all, I'm a fugitive, aren't I?"

"Not any more you aren't." An officer walks through the door with Kidd behind him "Greetings, Mr. Evans. I am the detective whose been working on your case, and this is the strangest one I've seen."

"Does this mean Soul - I mean Seth - is not guilty anymore?" I ask.

"Of course it does. We officially have proof that you did not commit the crime you were charged with. You are now free to go. And don't worry about anything else." He waved goodbye and walks out, while Kidd stayed.

"I'm sorry for all of the pain my father has cause you. If there's anything my family can do to repay you - "

"Nah, it's fine," Soul shrugs. "I don't need anymore pity from anyone else."

Kidd clears his throat and apologizes once more before he leaves us alone again. "Glad they're gone," Soul says. "So...a dash of romance, huh?"

"Sh-shut up!" I say, my face becoming a blistering red again. "It was a lot of help to my book!"

He laughs and suddenly pulls my arm in, and my face lands in the palm of his chest. "You know, I wouldn't mind helping you with that." I glance up at his shark-tooth grin, my cheeks hot pink. "I wouldn't mind another kiss."

* * *

**A/N: Well, this story is at its closing and there's only one chapter left! My thanks goes out to all of you who have been reviewing! Let's make it to 100 reviews!**

**Anyways, if you go to my profile, I'm holding a poll on which story I should release next! All of the details are on my profile, and I would appreciate it greatly if you voted!**

**~Amber**


	17. The Daily Life of Soul Eater Evans

Chapter 17: The Daily Life of Soul Eater Evans

The doorbell rang as I made a hasty sprint towards the door. "Good afternoon, Soul!" Maka greeted me with a bright smile while I motion her inside. "What's the occasion today?"

"You'll see. It's gonna be on the tv." I led her inside and Wes waves to her from the kitchen.

"Well, if it isn't our lovely young lady who comes to visit us often," he smiles and looks up from his sink filled with dirty dishes and soapy water. "You seem earlier than usual."

"Soul told me that today's gonna be a special day. There's a news reporter who's finally doing a segment about Soul's case," she says proudly. "And that I helped in solving it."

"Sure as hell you did," I say and guide her to our living room. Another knock rang out against the door, but harder than you'd expect an average knock to be. "Hold on one sec." I make another trip to the door.

"YOUR GOD HAS ARRIVED!" A loud-mouthed spiky blue haired boy stomps through the door upon opening it.

"Geez," I sigh. "Hurry up, it's gonna start soon." Making sure I gather everyone up in the living room, I sit them down on the couch and switch on the tv.

So, I suppose you wanna know what's going on here. I also suppose you wanna hear some happy endings, or why in the hell BlackStar would be at my house. I guess I should start with the first option.

First off, it ain't actually my house. Wes welcomed me back into his own abode after he discovered I had cleared my name, and not to mention, had been living in a closet for the past month. Plus, I didn't have anywhere else to go, and it'd be awhile until I could buy a house on my own. I shared half of the inheritance money that my parents granted me, so we're both happy people. There's his happy ending.

"Can we get some popcorn here?" BlackStar demands. "I'm starving."

"I'm way ahead of you," Wes called from the kitchen, popping a popcorn bag in the microwave.

BlackStar was released on the account of good behavior (though if you ask me, he's still a jackass) after the judge took a look at this record and thought about trying to rehabilitate him by getting him out into the world again (mostly because he's a jackass and the guards were suffering from massive headaches everyday). He was released two months after the whole incident with Landau occurred, which was a week ago, therefore releasing him into society so he could weak havoc with his not-so-godly stature. I have no idea where he's living, though. He just told me he didn't need to sleep since he was so mighty.

So yes, this is two months later worth of recovering, waiting, and recuperation. Don't worry, you didn't miss much; it was just me moving into my brother's house and getting enrolled in a school (certainly not Maka's, seeing that I was considerably stupid). Trying to get my life back on track by walking in the streets normally and not having to hide or duck behind a garbage can was fine, too.

"All done! Maka, can you pass me a bowl here?"

"Oh, don't worry. I'll get the popcorn myself. You can go sit down if you want."

About Maka.

She, strangely, learned to find comfort within me, and usually treks up to my house every weekend or so, even though I've never admitted to anyone about liking her because Soul Eater Evans didn't relish the idea that he had a weakness for girls - more specifically, girls with ash-blonde pigtails and mossy green eyes shielded by glasses who carried books wherever she went.

Of course, we had to explain the whole situation to her father when he got back from his trip ("You hid _WHAT_ in your closet?!"), to his dismay. It took quite a while to convince him that I wouldn't try to murder his daughter just for the shits and giggles.

"Hurry up guys," I say, reserving a seat for Maka on the couch. "It's on in five."

"I'll get the mugs," Wes says, rushing back into the kitchen with the small clatter of glass as he poured the drinks.

It's almost as if we're sitting down for a family movie night. Though, I know it'd never be the same without my mother and father. I'm only glad that I had someone else to fill the void. There's my happy ending.

"Let's sit down here," I say, the new report beginning its opening theme music while Wes passed out the mugs and Maka trotted in with popcorn.

"Shh! Guys, it's about to start!" BlackStar hisses at us, pouncing over the back of the couch and landing on his spot with superb accuracy. I pat the seat where he left just enough room for Maka to squeeze her skinny little butt (yes, I admit, I was staring) in with a giant bowl of popcorn, but she refuses. She just settles on my lap instead, granting me a soft smile while she did.

"I thought you weren't a romantic," I smirk.

"I said a _dash_ of romance, Soul," she says, her tempting lips edging dangerously closer to mine.

"I hope you guys aren't gonna kiss again," BlackStar grumbles.

"Shut up, Star."

"Hey! It's about to start soon!" Wes walks in with a tray full of mugs and shuts off the light.

The program begins:

'_Tonight's Dateline Special: The Victim of Innocence_.'

Then, the announcer with his ever-serious face shows up:

_'Today, we will follow the story of a young man, Seth Evans, who now calls himself "Soul Eater," and a daring young miss named Maka Albarn - _she perks her head up proudly at the sound of her name_ - and how their intertwined fate led to the solving of a heinous crime. Yes, you all may already know his story of how the young heir was framed for his parents' murder, and how he had been wrongfully sent to jail for a crime he never committed, but now you will hear a completely different side to that story. Some may see him as just plain lucky. Some may see him as a determined young man. But some see him as a victim of his own innocence...'_

"Where's the part where _I_ show up?" BlackStar loudly demands, interrupting the program.

"Well, we're never gonna hear it if you keep shouting!" Maka chastises after him.

"Alright, alright, everybody just calm down for a second..." My brother says.

"The God demands to be seen!"

"Shut up already!"

"Guys!"

I just sit there quietly.

This is the daily life of Soul Eater Evans - it ain't too bad, right? I'd put up with the slight bickering and banter sometimes and the constant nagging of Maka trying to make me study. At least it's some sort of normalcy. At least it's better than my past lives. Although I'd gotten quite used to the excitement of running around and hiding in garbage cans and making my bed in a small claustrophobia-inducing closet. But, oh well.

I guess it'll just have to do.

* * *

**A/N: So, this is all I can muster for an epilogue, seeing that I am terribly busy with school work and tests and projects and all that jazz. It's just a simple, short conclusion of what happens afterwards. **

**If you haven't voted on my next story on my profile, then do it! Here's the vote count so far:**

**Melt: 4 votes**

**I like you, I love you: 3 votes**

**The Melancholy of Maka Albarn: 1 votes**

**Don't forget to check it out! **

**Thanks for enjoying this story. I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it for you.**

**~Amber**


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